


A Bump On The Head

by MTK4FUN



Category: The Hunger Games
Genre: Amnesia, Car Accident, F/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTK4FUN/pseuds/MTK4FUN
Summary: Contemporary AU - If you couldn't remember your past would you be a different person? A bump on the head changes Katniss' life.





	1. Chapter 1

“Katniss, how do you feel today? We brought some clothes for you.”

My eyes flutter open. I lie in a hospital bed. Two blonde-haired women dressed in matching blue scrubs stand in front of me. One is in her mid-twenties, the other looks to be approaching fifty. Their features are similar; I suspect they are related as both wear nametags with the surname _Everdeen_.

Confused I ask, “Why am I here?”

“You had an accident and bumped your head,” the younger one explains.

I put my hand to my forehead expecting to find a lump, but it’s smooth. “I don’t remember.”

The older woman’s eyes fill with tears. She shares a worried exchange with the younger one. “Do you know who we are?” she asks me.

_Is this some kind of trick question? _“You’re hospital employees named Everdeen?”

“I’m a medical intern,” the younger one pipes up. “But I’m also your sister, Prim. This is our mom, Lily. She’s a nurse in Labor and Delivery.”

“She doesn’t know us,” Lily says, wringing her hands.

I close my eyes and try to remember them. But nothing surfaces. I open my eyes again and note fear on both their faces. _I’ve never seen them before in my life._

A redheaded man with movie star looks comes into the room, takes the clipboard that is attached at the foot of my bed, and comes close to my side. The nametag on his white coat reads _Dr. Odair_. “How are you doing this morning?” he greets me.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Go ahead.”

“What’s your full name?”

“Katniss Everdeen.” I guess at that since one of them called me by that name, and both are Everdeens.

“What year is it?”

“2019.” I know that because I can easily see _2019_ on the chart Dr. Odair holds.

“Who are these two women?” He points to my visitors.

“My sister and my mom?”

“Did you know that on your own?”

I point to the younger one. “She told me, but I don’t recognize them.”

My mom’s face falls and my sister escorts her from the room.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“You had a head injury which caused retrograde amnesia,” Dr. Odair says. He taps his pen against the clipboard. “To put it in layperson’s terms, you’ve lost your memory.”

_Lost it? But where did it go?_ “Will it come back?”

He doodles a school of fish on the top of my paperwork. “Probably. But since there’s no evidence of concussion, we’ll be releasing you sometime today.”

“Release me? But where will I go? I don’t know who I am.”

“You’ll be released into the custody of your family. Take it easy over the next few days. If your memory doesn’t return within a week or two, make an appointment with a neurologist. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another amnesiac to check on. Weird that we’d get two cases of retrograde amnesia at the same time.”

As he leaves, a nurse brings in a tray of scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice. Suddenly I am ravenous. I gobble down the food, wishing for more. Bored, I pick up the remote on the table by my bed and turn on the television. After flipping through a dozen channels, I settle on a reality show featuring a woman selecting her wedding gown. I root for the future bride to select the frilly one with pearls and lace, but she chooses the plain one without any beading at all. _So boring_.

Later, a cheery nurse comes in to take away my empty tray. She points to clothing that sits on a nearby chair. “You can get dressed now. Your husband is here to take you home.”

My mouth falls open. “I’m married?” I look to my left hand for a ring, but it’s bare. _Where’s my wedding band?_

“Appears so.” She gives me a knowing grin. “You’re a lucky girl. He’s handsome.”

I close my eyes willing my memory to return. _How could I forget my husband?_ But it’s as if a giant wall is blocking the view to my life. I sigh. _At least the nurse said he’s handsome._

I dress in jeans, a white t-shirt, and sneakers. _Is this utilitarian outfit my usual attire?_ _It’s so basic._

Even though I’m perfectly capable of walking, the nurse insists I wait for an orderly to take me out in a wheelchair. A bald, middle-aged man pushes me out of the building into a blast of warm air. Based on the temperature I speculate it’s summer. _I’m getting good at figuring things out._

Another wheelchair already sits empty next to the gray sedan where I am deposited. A stocky man sits in the back seat, his eyes closed. Ash blonde curls peek out beneath the white bandage that encircles his head._ What happened to him?_

From behind me, a voice booms. “You look great sweetheart. Let’s get you out of that chair and into the car. We have a long drive ahead of us.” From the corner of my eye I catch sight of a tall, sandy-haired man with bedroom eyes and a sensuous mouth. _The nurse was right._ He kisses my cheek and helps me into the front seat. He shows me how to use the safety buckle, the gold band on his ring finger flashing in the sunlight. My heart beats rapidly. _He must be my husband._

As soon as he starts the motor he fiddles with the air conditioner, pointing the air vents toward me. _He’s so thoughtful._ But once he drives away from the hospital pickup zone, my husband drops all interest in me. He stares into his rearview mirror and starts talking to the guy in the back seat.

“You sure know how to inconvenience a person, Peeta. First, you get the whole family into a tizzy with the news that you’re bringing a mystery bride, and then I get a call that you were in a car crash. Delly had to ride with Mom and Dad to the cabin. She wasn’t very happy about it.”

“Who are you?” the backseat passenger asks.

My husband’s face goes red. He hits the brakes hard as we come to a stop sign, causing me to jerk forward. _Thank goodness for my seatbelt._ _He’s not such a great driver._

He turns around to glare at the backseat passenger. “Your brother Rye, you dope. The doc said you lost your memory…” He pauses, and then his face crumples. The anger in his voice is gone, replaced by fear as he asks, “It’s really true, isn’t it?”

My mouth falls open. I turn in my seat to face my brother-in-law, as well. “You’ve lost your memory?”

Peeta’s face lights up and he gives me a shy smile. “Yeah, and I have ten stitches in my head to prove it.”

I smile back at him._ I like his sense of humor. _“I’ve lost mine, too.”

A car’s horn blasts behind us, and my husband Rye and I turn forward. Rye hits the gas and makes a right turn out of the parking lot and onto the street. “This is just great,” he says. “Neither of you two idiots knows who in the hell you are.”

I rest my left hand lightly on my husband’s knee. “Well, I know I’m your wife even if I don’t remember you.”

Rye snorts. “You’re not my wife, honey, you’re his.” Mortified, my hand flies off his knee as he tips his head toward the backseat.

_I’m married to Peeta, not Rye?_ I twist around in my seat again to observe my _real _husband. He’s physically different from his brother, in build and appearance. But that’s not to say he’s unattractive. Rye may be handsome, but Peeta is _cute_, with the typical boy-next-door good looks. He has the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. _There’s something about those eyes. They look so familiar. _Like me, he’s not wearing a wedding band either. _Don’t we have rings?_

“So how did you two meet?” Rye asks.

I raise my eyebrows to Peeta. He gives me a sweet smile – _oh, those dimples_ \-- and he raises his shoulders to indicate he’s as lost as me. I turn forward in my seat daydreaming about his dimples.

“Well, this is gonna be one hell of a weekend,” Rye interrupts my thoughts. “If I didn’t know better, Peeta, I’d think you’re faking amnesia and you got your new wife to play along. Because you know Mom is going to have a fit that you didn’t invite her to the wedding. In fact, Delly was a bit miffed, too. You really kept this a secret. You never told anyone you were even dating.”

_We were a secret? Is that why my mother and sister didn’t mention Peeta to me?_

Rye glances at my midsection. “Are you pregnant?”_  
_

My hands immediately fly to my belly. I rub my hands over it. _Could I be expecting? Would the doctor have mentioned it if I were?_

I frown. “I don’t think so.” _But maybe I am. Maybe that’s why I was so hungry this morning._

I turn in my seat again to look at Peeta for an answer. A sheepish expression sits on his face. “Did you remember something?” I can hear the panic in my own voice. _Maybe I am expecting._

Rye snickers. “He’s probably thinking about the conception.”

My face heats up as I face forward trying to process everything Rye’s said.


	2. Chapter 2

We drive in silence for a long while. I turn in my seat a few times to sneak a peek at Peeta. He catches my eye and winks. Even with a bandage around his head he’s adorable._ How did I get so lucky?_ I blush and turn back around, staring out the window at the buildings at the edge of the throughway. They get farther and farther apart. _Where is this cabin?_

Eventually Rye turns off the main highway and onto a two-lane road lined with evergreen trees. The road goes uphill ever so gradually. Rye turns off the air conditioner, pushes a button on the side of his door and all the windows in the car automatically lower. The air has cooled considerably and the car smells fresh and woodsy, like a Christmas tree lot.

I inhale deeply. A sense of calm and contentedness comes over me. “I love that smell.” 

“If you love it now, wait until we get there,” Rye says. “We’ll be in the middle of the forest. No phone, TV, or internet reception. No entertainment whatsoever other than what you can dream up yourself.” 

From the tone in Rye’s voice, he means to be sarcastic, but I can’t help but think that the isolation might help me to regain my memory, and help Peeta regain his as well. _It will be the perfect place for us to learn to remember each other._

Rye glances into the rearview mirror. “Any of this scenery look familiar, Peeta?”

“Sorry, but no.”

“Seeing as you claim not to remember a thing, let me prepare you for what lies ahead,” Rye says. You’re one of the three Mellark brothers. Phyl is the oldest. He’s the bossy one. He’s married to the lovely Fern. I’m the good-looking, middle son. My wife is the overly cheerful Delly. You’re the runt of the family. We all work for our parents, Henry and Greta.” 

“What kind of business?” Peeta asks. 

Rye sighs loudly. “Good grief, doesn’t the name Mellark mean anything to you? Our family owns Mellark’s Bakery – five shops in all.” 

A memory flashes through my head. I visualize the lettering - _Mellark’s Bakery -_ edged in gold on a glass door, and recall the taste of a roll filled with melting cheese. My mouth starts to water. “Does Mellark’s make some kind of bun with cheese in it?”

“Cheese buns,” Rye says. “Peeta came up with the idea for them.”

_I remember something!_

“I did?” Peeta sounds dumbfounded.

“I think its fair to say you fell for my brother because of his buns. They’re probably the only valuable thing he’s contributed to the business.”

I scowl at Rye. I don’t like him insulting my husband.

“Don’t give me that look, ” Rye says. “I’m doing you both a big favor. You know the hospital didn’t even know you two were together. I had to turn on the charm to get them to release you into my custody. I had to lie and say I was your husband because they’d never let me spring you if I was only your brother-in-law. While your real husband,” he glared at Peeta in the rearview mirror, “can’t remember his own name, let alone that he had a wife in the bed just across the hall from him.”

_So that’s how it happened._ “You know my mother and sister work at the hospital,” I volunteer.

“I wish Peeta had told me more about you. Then I wouldn’t have had to lie.”

“At least that’s who they said they were,” I add. “I didn’t remember them. But they don’t look like me.”

From the back seat, Peeta calls out, “You could be adopted.”

Adopted? Pregnant? Married? I have no idea what I am. _Obviously married though._

“Maybe if you went through your wallet or checked your phone you could learn more about yourself,” Rye suggests.

It’s then that I realize I have no identification. No wallet, no phone. _Did I lose them in the accident? Did my Mom or sister spirit them away?_

“Hey, where’s _my_ phone?” Peeta says, patting at his pockets.

“You probably left it in your vehicle,” Rye says. “You always shove it in the glove box when you drive.”

“Shouldn’t we have gone to retrieve our car first before taking this trip?” Peeta asks.

“Yeah,” I agree. 

“It’s wrecked,” Rye said. He gives Peeta a stern glance via the rearview mirror. “You can pick it up at the impound lot when we get back.”

“Back from where?” Peeta asks.

Rye hits the steering wheel with his hand. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying, Peeta?”

_Boy I’m glad he’s not my husband. He’s not very patient with either of us._

“I’m taking you to the family cabin where everyone is gathering to celebrate Mom and Dad’s thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Mom said they have an important announcement to make. We all think Dad’s going to retire.” 

The conversation dies off after that. _I hope we get there soon. _Leaning back in my seat, I shut my eyes only to wake from a dreamless sleep when Rye shakes my shoulder. “We’re here.”

The house that stands in front of us is far bigger than what I’d expected when Rye called it a cabin. It’s two stories high and looks like a small hunting lodge. Other cars are parked in front, nicer, newer ones than Rye’s sedan. _These people are rich. I’ve married into money. Or maybe I already was wealthy. _The thought intrigues me. 

We get out of the car and Rye leads us inside. A man as tall as Rye but with white strands woven throughout his fair hair rushes up to Peeta in the entry. “Are you all right, son? Your head…” 

“I have ten stitches,” Peeta announces.

“Oh, you poor kid. Give your old man a hug.” His arms go around Peeta and he squeezes him tight.

“Rye told us you took a bride,” he says. “I wish you’d told us sooner that you’d met someone. You can only imagine the conversation that your Mom and Delly had on the ride up here.” He rolls his eyes upward in mock horror before turning to me. “Hello, I’m your father-in-law Henry. And you’re…” 

“Katniss.”

He puts out his arms and I willingly step into them. “You’re a brave girl to join us here this weekend. It’s not going to be pretty,” he whispers to me, before giving me a generous hug.

When he lets go, I notice his grimace. _I thought this was supposed to be an anniversary party. Why is he so upset?_

Rye clears his throat. “There’s been a slight complication, Dad. It seems that as a result of the car crash, Peeta and Katniss have amnesia.”

“Is that true?” Henry raises his eyebrows.

“Yes,” I answer. “I didn’t even remember I was married.”

“Sometimes, I wish the same. Well, hopefully you’ll be back to your old selves soon enough. Now come inside. Peeta, show your bride around the place.”

“But I don’t remember…” Peeta says.

Henry slaps his forehead. “Oh right. Rye, show your brother and his bride where they can put their things.”

_Things? Peeta and I only have the clothes on our back. How long are we staying here?_

Nervously, I rub my stomach as we follow Rye through a living room filled with leather couches and heavy oak furniture that opens to a large kitchen with a granite island. Around the corner is a wide staircase. “I don’t know where everyone’s gotten to,” Rye says. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you to your bedroom.”

_Our bedroom._ My heart races.

The bedroom is the first door at the top of the stairs. Peeta and I go inside to find a double bed covered in a plaid blanket, a dresser, and large upholstered armchair.

“I’ll leave you two to get settled,” Rye says, closing the door and leaving me alone with Peeta.

“So do you remember this room?” I ask my husband, as I look around. The view of towering trees from the window is stupendous.

“Nope, I don’t. I don’t remember anything about this house.”

“It’s spectacular. Your family’s bakery must be doing great.”

“It must be. I sure hope my memory comes back soon, though; because I have no idea what I do for them other than invent the occasional baked good. I hope I’m not keeping the accounts. I’ve never liked math.” 

I can’t help but grin at him. “See you remember something.” I sit down in the armchair, while Peeta sits on the bed, leaning back against the pillows.

“Do you remember anything else?” he asks.

“No, just the cheese buns.”

“It’s weird I can’t remember you,” Peeta says. “You’re so pretty, I can’t figure out how I could ever forget you.”

I blush at his words, but we’re newlyweds. I expect he’s complimented my appearance many times already.

He pats the space on the bed beside him. “I was thinking maybe we could help each other remember.”

My cheeks flush. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to be getting physical now.”

_Besides how cheesy would that be for my memory to return suddenly after experiencing Peeta’s charms? Like Snow White waking up after being kissed by the prince._

This time his face goes red. “No, I agree. I’d feel as if I was taking advantage of you.” He runs a hand through his hair, making the curls go awry.

_He’s so handsome. Be still my heart!_

“I just thought if we could sit, hold hands and talk, and breathe each other’s air, perhaps it would spark our memories.”

“That might work.” I leave the chair and climb onto the bed, sitting alongside Peeta. I reach for his hand. It’s big and calloused. I rub my hand over it before interlocking my fingers through his.


	3. Chapter 3

Peeta and I lean back against the pillows holding hands. I close my eyes waiting for something to happen. My memory doesn’t return, but serenity washes over me. His very presence surrounds me with comfort. _I could sit here forever._

“I noticed a burn on my arm when I was dressing at the hospital,” Peeta says, breaking the silence. “I might pull things out of hot ovens.” He moves his left arm across his chest and twists it to show me a white patch of skin. “Look.”

I have an overwhelming desire to kiss it like it’s a child’s boo-boo. But I restrain myself. _It wouldn’t be such a good idea. Next I’ll be removing his head bandage and kissing every one of his ten stitches. _

Instead I focus my attention on our interlocked hands, wiggling my fingers a bit. “Your brother made it sound as if you invented cheese buns, so I guess you must be a baker.”

“I hope the recipes are written down then.”

_He’s funny._ I chuckle at Peeta’s joke, and lean my head against his shoulder.

We sit in silence for a while longer. “How do you think we met?” he finally asks. He runs his free hand along the end of my braid, toying with my hair. The sensation sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

I raise my head to stare into his beautiful blue eyes. “Well, I remembered your cheese buns.”

“That must be it.” He smiles and his dimples cause my heart to melt. “You came into the bakery one sunny day, and I was working the counter while the regular person was at lunch.”

Squeezing his hand, I add to his story, “I asked what you recommended and you said cheese buns, of course.”

Without missing a beat Peeta continues this fanciful yarn about our meet-cute. “After one bite, the look on your face was radiant.”

I smile at his description of my reaction. _He’s so proud of his creation_. “You told me you made that batch, invented them even.”

“And I asked what you were doing that evening because I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I couldn’t let a day pass without getting to know everything about you.”

“Because I liked your cheese buns?” I tease.

“Because it was love at first sight,” Peeta declares.

I blush. _How did I ever get so lucky?_

“You know that right. Even if I can’t remember you, I feel as if I’ve known you forever.”

_I feel exactly the same._

A sudden thought occurs. “I wonder why you didn’t tell your family about us?” _Did I tell my mother and sister?_ _They never mentioned Peeta to me._

“Maybe we didn’t get the chance.” Peeta untangles his hand from mine and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small black velvet box and opens it. Two shiny gold rings sit inside. “I found this when I was looking for my phone. I don’t know why we weren’t wearing them, but we might as well put them on now.”

He slips the narrow gold band onto my left ring finger, and puts the wider one onto his finger.

I hold out my hand to observe it_. I didn’t know a gold ring could feel so lightweight. _I look up at Peeta with tears in my eyes. “I wish my memory would return.”

He takes my left hand and rubs his thumb over my palm. ”Give it time, Katniss, it will.” 

“You seem so certain.” 

“I’m not, but what does our past matter? We’re together now. It’s our future I care about.” I’m ready to swoon, as he reaches for a loose tendril of my hair and gently puts it behind my ear.

I tilt my head up to stare into his eyes and then his head leans down. His lips meet mine. They’re soft and gentle and I find myself opening my mouth to deepen the kiss to see if it helps me to remember something. Anything. _And since I’m wearing his ring now it would probably be all right if we..._

The door opens abruptly and a shrill voice calls out, “There you are.” Peeta startles, and breaks our connection.

Dazed with lust, I turn my head, my hand resting lightly on Peeta’s chest. A plump, middle-aged woman with short blonde hair stands in the doorway.

“So you’re Peeta’s bride. I’m Greta.” Her forehead furrows, as she looks me over. “You’re not very big. Yet.”

_She must think I’m pregnant!_ I look to my husband. A panicked expression appears on his face, and I feel his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. _Has she triggered a bad memory?_

“Aren’t you going to say hello to your mother?” the woman questions.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t recognize you,” Peeta says.

She snorts. “Your father told me some ridiculous story about you having amnesia as a result of that car accident.”

“It’s true,” Peeta says. “Katniss has it, too.”

“Interesting,” she says. “You can’t remember any of your family, but it looks like you remember each other just fine.”

_I guess it would look that way since we’re cuddling together on the bed._

Peeta’s mother shakes her head. “You’ve spent far too much time with Rye if you think I’m falling for some amnesia story. Now get your butt downstairs, mister. Your father and I want to talk to you and your brothers.” She leaves, shutting the door behind her.

“Did she jog your memory? I ask.

Peeta bites his lip. “No, but I got a very bad feeling when she was talking. Like she’s someone I try to avoid.”

“She doesn’t seem very understanding.” _At least my sister and mother believed my memory loss. They were even upset over it. _

“She doesn’t,” Peeta agrees.

I rub my free hand anxiously across my belly._ Could I really be expecting? _

Peeta lets go of my hand and gets off the bed. “I better go downstairs and see what’s going on.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Would you?” he asks.

“Of course, you’re my husband. Your family is my family.”

We go downstairs to find everyone seated at the dining table. Peeta’s parents sit at opposite ends. Peeta and I take the last two seats next to each other. From Rye’s description of the family, I’m able to figure out who’s who. 

Peeta’s older brother Phyl sits to the right of Henry. He’s tall and broad-shouldered like his dad. His wife Fern, who has shoulder-length red hair, sits across from him. Rye sits next to Fern and across from Peeta. A buxom blonde sits on the other side of Rye, directly across from me. _She must be the overly cheerful Delly._

“You must be Katniss,” Delly chirps, as I take my place. “I’m so happy to meet you.”

“Thank you,” I murmur. I look down the table and smile at Fern who is mouthing “hi.”

_How nice to have two sisters-in-law. I hope we can become good friends._

“I made a big salad for our dinner,” Delly announces. “I thought we could save the steaks for tomorrow, for your anniversary.” 

Henry coughs. “That’s nice of you Delly, but I don’t think….”

I can sense the tension in the air as Henry’s voice trails off. I reach for Peeta’s hand to show my support.

“We asked you all to gather this weekend, and I suppose you thought it was for our anniversary because of the timing and all,” Henry says. “But that’s not it. It seems…. The thing is…” His eyes tear up, and his head drops.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Greta says. Her eyes roam around the table. “We’re getting a divorce. We’re here to iron out the financials of the business since we’ll be splitting up the assets. Your father thought it would be best if everyone had a say in the matter, since two of the bakeries will have to be sold off.”

I feel the tightening of Peeta’s hand on mine. Meanwhile I survey the faces around the table. I don’t know these people, but it’s easy to recognize they’re devastated. _Their entire world is collapsing._

I look to my husband. His forehead is wrinkled as if he’s confused, but because of his memory loss, he’s detached from the pain of the situation.

“Why are you doing this to us?” Phyl shouts at his mother. “You’re destroying everything we’ve worked for.”

“Don’t blame your mother,” Henry says, laying a hand on Phyl’s arm. “We made the decision together. It’s probably for the best. Besides the business won’t be entirely destroyed. We’ll just be cutting back.” 

“You know, Fern and I nearly broke up because of the hours I put in when we opened the last shop,” Phyl says.

Fern nods in agreement. She reaches across the table to grasp her husband’s hands.

“She hates all of us,” Rye says, bitterly. He turns toward Greta. “Tell me, Mother dearest, what do you plan to do with your half of the money?”

“Rye, that is uncalled for,” Henry breaks in. “This matter is between your mother and me.” 

“You lied,” Delly says in a shaking voice. “We came here to celebrate your wedding anniversary. Peeta decorated a beautiful cake for the both of you.”

Peeta leans toward me, and whispers, “I guess I decorate cakes, too.”

Henry looks down the table at his wife of thirty-five years minus a day, and sighs loudly. “I think we need to let the kids get used to the idea, Greta.” A nervous smile comes to his lips. “We’ll discuss it more tomorrow. How about we all eat now?” His eyes flit around the table. Catching mine he says, “Hope this hasn’t discouraged you, Katniss. We’re not normally so emotional.”


	4. Chapter 4

No one is interested in eating Delly’s salad. In fact, everyone gets up from the table and heads for their respective bedrooms, leaving Henry, Peeta and me to dine alone. 

After our fill of greens, Henry carries a pink box to the table. He opens the lid and the scent of sugar wafts through the air as he reveals a beautifully decorated cake with a woodsy theme. Three pinecones made from chocolate fondant icing sit beside the message, _Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad._

“You did a good job, Peet,” Henry says. “We might as well dig in. I hate to see a tasty cake go to waste.” He cuts three generous slices eliminating the words _Happy Anniversary_.

It seems weird to be eating this celebratory cake given the circumstances, but I’m still hungry. _I need more than salad for dinner. _Anyway Henry doesn’t seem to mind, and without his memory Peeta isn’t bothered that his parents have called it quits. 

Peeta takes a bite. “I made this? Wow, it tastes good, too.” 

“You’re very talented.” I run my hand along his arm to let him know how proud I am of him. _I have a brilliant husband._

“You are son,” his dad agrees.

“But what if my memory doesn’t return?” Peeta asks his father. “How can I be a baker?”

“Did the doctor say it was a permanent loss?”

Peeta rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t remember.”

“My doctor said I should see a neurologist if I’m not back to normal in a week or two,” I volunteer.

“That’s good advice,” Henry says. “I’m sure it will work out fine for both of you.”

Henry is the first to finish. He carries his plate and fork to the sink, and puts the boxed cake back into the refrigerator. “How did you two meet?” he asks when he returns to the table. 

“Not sure,” Peeta says. “But we think Katniss might have come to the bakery to purchase cheese buns.” 

“I don’t recall seeing you in any of our shops lately,” Henry tells me. “But then I’m all over the place these days. Or stuck in the back dealing with inventory and accounting. Even Greta has no interaction with customers any more, instead she does, well _did_, all the hiring and human resources stuff.” 

Henry buses the table after Peeta and I finish eating. He talks as he hand washes the dishes. “It wasn’t like this when we started. I baked; Greta ran the front counter. Everything was simple. We had a real life. We’d close down for a week in summer and go camping. Remember, Peetie?” 

“Nope” 

I remember Phyl’s comment about how he and Fern almost broke up because of overwork._ I guess more money meant more work, not more happiness._

“Promise me that you two will make every effort to make time for yourselves,” Henry warns us when he returns to the table. “Don’t drift apart because of work.”

My eyes catch Peeta’s. “We won’t,” he says, reaching for my hand.

_I hope I never forget to have fun with Peeta._

Rye was right about having to make your own entertainment at the cabin. Henry opens a cupboard in the living room to show us a stack of books, board games, and puzzles. Henry pulls out a mystery novel. Peeta pulls out a puzzle.

“Do you like puzzles, Katniss?” my husband asks.

“I think I’m living in one.”

Peeta chuckles. “I know what you mean. But at least we know what this one is supposed to look like when it’s done. He holds up a box that shows a photo of a garden full of flowers. “It only has five hundred pieces.” 

“Is that all?” I tease.

I sit beside him at the dining table as we set aside all the pieces with straight edges.

After ten minutes Henry sets down his book. “Can I help, too? I’m having trouble concentrating.”

“Sure,” I say.

Henry grabs some pieces and begins sorting them by color. “Greta and I used to work together on projects when we first married.” He launches into a story about how they painted the inside of the first bakery a soft peach color and decorated it with cookie jars they brought at thrift stores. 

Peeta stares off into space while his father speaks. A look of excitement grows on his face. “Was there a jar that looked like a baker? The base was the baker’s head and his large hat was the top?”

“I used to hide snickerdoodles in it for you boys,” Henry says.

Peeta turns to me, a gleeful look on his face. “Katniss, I remember that cookie jar.”

“Lucky you,” I reply. _If only I could remember Peeta. _From the corner of my eye, I spy on him as he works, noting the look of concentration on his face, the set of his mouth and his long eyelashes. _How do they not get tangled up when he blinks?_

Peeta asks his father more questions about his childhood, which Henry readily answers. My husband’s serious expression softens and he begins to smile. _Is his memory returning?_

We stay up late. I yawn a couple of times. “You two should probably turn in,” Henry suggests. We bid Henry goodnight and go upstairs.

I head for the bathroom first. I may have enjoyed our kiss very much, but I’m uncomfortable about sharing a bed with Peeta. _You’re married_, I remind myself. _I can’t remember, though_, I argue back. _I guess I’m shy around men._ After re-braiding my hair, I return to our room.

Peeta sits on the bed lost in thought. He startles when he sees me. “We should talk,” he says.

From the nervous look on his face, it’s clear to me he’s concerned about the sleeping arrangements, too. Before we can discuss it, a knock sounds on the door.

I open it wide to find Henry on the other side. “I’m sorry I didn’t think this through at all but I have no place to sleep tonight. I’ve been sleeping in the guest room at home the last few days and was planning to bunk with Peeta while we were here….”

“And then Rye told you Peeta was bringing me along,” I answer for him. 

He nods. “I’d sleep on the sofa downstairs, but I have this back problem…I know this is asking a lot Katniss, but would you stay with Greta tonight? I feel bad for her after the way the kids reacted.”

_Poor Henry. He still cares for his wife. It would help both of us if we switch sleeping partners tonight. _I turn to Peeta. He looks as relieved as I feel. He did say that if we got physical he’d feel as if he were taking advantage of me._ What a gentleman my husband is to wait until I can remember him._

Peeta gets off the bed. “Do you mind?” He looks apologetic.

I shake my head. Peeta gives me a goodnight hug.

Henry points toward the room at the end of the hall. “Thanks. I owe you both.”

I tap lightly on Greta’s door.

“Go away, Henry,” a voice calls from inside.

I open the door a crack. “It’s Katniss. Henry is going to bunk with Peeta. Would it be all right if I stay with you?” 

My mother-in-law sits in bed reading a paperback. She closes it immediately and shoves it under her pillow. _I wonder if she’ll tell me to go downstairs and sleep on one of the couches. _Instead she waves me into the room. _Henry’s right. She needs a friend after that scene downstairs. This might be a good way for us to bond._

“Where are your pajamas?”

“Rye brought us straight from the hospital.”

“I’ll loan you something.” She gets out of bed and pulls a flannel nightgown out of the dresser. I change in the ensuite bathroom. The whole situation is awkward since my first impressions of the woman haven’t been favorable, but I remind myself that she’s had a terrible day. _I’d like for us to be friends if that’s possible._

As soon as I climb into bed, she asks, “How did you meet Peeta?” 

I plump up my pillow and pull the coverlet over me. “I can’t remember because of the amnesia, but we think it might have been over cheese buns.” 

“Oh, right, amnesia.” She purses her lips like she doesn’t believe me. “Well just remember this, it hurt my feelings that I wasn’t invited to my own son’s wedding. Especially when I’ve been urging him for years to settle down.”

_Why didn’t we tell our families?_ “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think we invited my mother and sister either. They never mentioned Peeta to me when I saw them at the hospital this morning.”

“Hmm. Tell me about your family.”

“My sister is a doctor, and my mother is a nurse.”

“Do you work in the medical profession, too?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about your father?”

I shake my head as a feeling of sadness floods over me._ Am I remembering something?_

“Seems like you don’t know much of anything. How can you even be sure you’re married to my son?”

_I connected to him immediately. _“Rye told us.”

Greta starts to laugh. Soon her eyes are watering. All the while I feel myself growing angry.

She wipes her cheeks with the palms of her hands. “Oh honey, you have a lot to learn. Rye’s not reliable.”

Infuriated, I rest my hand on my stomach. _How dare she doubt that Peeta and I are wed_. “I might be having Peeta’s baby.” 

Greta’s eyebrows go up. “I knew it. But I’m not upset. In fact, it would be good news.”

“Well, I’m not exactly certain,” I hedge.

“Of course you’re pregnant. Why else would Peeta suddenly marry someone none of us know? Maybe he fed you cheese buns, _after_.” She gives me a knowing wink.

_Is she calling me promiscuous?_ “I’m not that kind of person.”

“You, yourself, said you can’t remember. Being a grandmother would be something for me to look forward to. I’m going to have a lot of free time on my hands now.” 

_To interfere with the raising of my child? Oh, no. _“Henry mentioned you did all the hiring.”

“It’s been a nightmare,” Greta says. “I never wanted any of it, but Henry was determined to expand the business, to leave something for the boys. Instead it’s stretched us to the breaking point.”

“He does seem broken,” I admit.

“I can’t stay married to a man who’s all work and no play.” Greta pulls the book out from under her pillow and tosses it onto the nightstand.

I catch sight of the cover. It features a woman entwined in a man’s arms. _Interesting choice of reading. _

“I’m going to turn off the light now,” she says. Once it’s dark, she turns her back to me. Greta’s breathing soon steadies.

Sugared up on cake, I lie awake and try to remember something -- anything. Eventually a dreamless sleep takes over until I am roused by a bullhorn.

“Surround the house. Keep your guns drawn.”

After a minute a loud crash sounds. _Did someone kick in the front door?_


	5. Chapter 5

There’s loud, unintelligible shouting downstairs. 

Greta groans, turns on the light, and sits up. She rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“What’s going on?” I whimper.

“Damned if I know.” She gets out of bed, and mutters as she walks to the door. “If one of those boys did something I swear I’ll …”

Just as she opens it wide Henry bellows, “Get over here now, Rye.”

From my position in bed, I see Rye standing in the doorway of his room. He wears pajama pants and is bare-chested. Delly wears a frilly pink robe beside him. He bends down and whispers something to her before stepping out of my line of sight.

A couple of seconds later, a law enforcement officer dressed in black and heavily armed approaches Greta. “I’m looking for Katniss Everdeen.”

_Me? What did I do?_

Greta turns. The look on her face is one of horror, as if she’d just learned she’d spent the night in bed with a criminal.

_Could I have committed a crime? Can I be charged for something I don’t remember doing?_

I climb out of bed. “I’m Katniss Everdeen.”

Greta steps aside as the officer enters the room. “We’ve been searching for you Miss Everdeen ever since your abduction from the hospital.”

My mouth falls open. “I wasn’t abducted. I’m here of my own free will with my husband and his family.”

“There’s no record of any marriage, ma’am. Rye Mellark lied to hospital staff and …” 

“Oh, I know about that,” I interrupt. “His brother Peeta and I are married, and since Peeta had amnesia and couldn’t vouch for me, Rye said I was his wife.”

The officer shakes his head. “That’s all very interesting, but you need to get dressed and come with me now so we can get a official statement from you at headquarters.”

_What a hassle. _“I’ll be back after I get this sorted out,” I tell Greta before I go into the bathroom to change into my clothes. She glares at me, not saying a word.

The officer waits in the hallway for me and leads me downstairs where the family has gathered. Delly cries in Fern’s arms, while a second armed officer speaks in a low voice with Henry, Greta, and Phyl. The only word I can make out is “kidnapped” and then Henry declares he’s “going to call his attorney.” It strikes me as odd because his arm is around Greta’s waist._ Do divorce attorneys handle police mix-ups, too?_

I scan the room for Peeta and Rye, But they are nowhere to seen. I blink as I step outside into the night. Bright lights face me. Once my eyes adjust, I realize that a row of police cars is parked with their headlights facing the front of the house. Officers stand around talking.

To the left is a white van bearing the Channel 12 news logo. A tripod with lights is set up and a camera operator films me. A reporter rushes forward with a microphone. “Tell us what happened, Katniss?” I’m momentarily taken off guard by her appearance – half of her head is shaved and the other half is covered with tattoos.

Before I can answer, the officer reaches for my arm and pulls me toward one of the vehicles. “There will be a press conference later,” he shouts to the reporter, before escorting me into the backseat of a vehicle. He shuts the door.

I look across to the car next to me. Rye sits alone in the backseat with his head in his hands. _Where’s Peeta_? I look to the car on the opposite side, but it’s empty. I wave my arms and then bang on the window to get Rye’s attention, but he doesn’t look up. I try to get out of the car, but the door won’t open. _I’m locked in here._

“This is all a big mistake,” I say a few minutes later when an officer slips into the driver’s seat. “I wasn’t kidnapped.”

“Save it for the formal interview.”

We drive in silence for at least thirty minutes before we reach headquarters. For the middle of the night, the parking lot is surprisingly busy with officers and news crews. But I don’t have a chance to talk with anyone as I’m rushed inside. _Where’s my husband? Where did they take Rye?_

I’m taken into a small conference room. A woman asks me if I’d like some coffee. I nod and she leaves, returning with a cup. I yawn and drink my coffee. The clock reads 4 a.m. _No wonder I’m so tired._ I lay my head on the table and close my eyes. When I wake up the clock reads 6 a.m.

A different officer sits across from me doing paperwork. His badge reads _Jacob Boggs_. “So you’ve finally woken up Miss Everdeen,” he says. “Your mother and sister are on their way here to take you home.”

I sit up straight and press my hands onto the table in front of me. “There’s been a mistake. I wasn’t abducted. I’m married to Peeta Mellark. See.” I hold out my left hand for him to see the ring. _Weird that the skin around it has turned red. _“Where is my husband now?”

“I’ll talk to you about that afterwards,” he says. “Right now I need to take a statement. It will be recorded. Just look straight ahead.”

Beyond him is a mirrored wall, which I suspect is a two-way mirror. A camera and likely other officers are on the other side. _Is Peeta on the other side, too, waiting for me?_

Officer Boggs listens attentively as I tell him about getting amnesia from a car accident, and Rye taking us to the cabin in the woods for an anniversary celebration that turned into a family nightmare when Mr. and Mrs. Mellark announced their divorce plans. He asks a few questions, along the way to clarify things, but mostly he listens to me.

“Thank you for your statement,” Officer Boggs says when I’m done speaking. He turns his head to the mirror behind him and nods to indicate that he is done with his questioning and they can stop filming.

“Sounds like you had quite a day,” he says. “I understand that you’re suffering from amnesia, Miss Everdeen, but here are the facts. You’re not married to _any_ of the Mellark brothers. In fact as far as we can determine, you have never had any personal contact with anyone in the family prior to yesterday.”

I feel lightheaded and think I might faint. I probably swoon because Officer Boggs asks me if I want any water. I shake my head, and he continues.

“From what we can determine, your vehicle was broadsided a day and a half ago. A woman named Johanna Mason was driving the car that hit your vehicle. Peeta Mellark was a passenger in Miss Mason’s car. He went through the windshield. Miss Mason suffered a serious injury to her leg. You and Peeta Mellark were both transported to Dandelion General Hospital. Miss Mason was transported elsewhere because she required specialized surgery. At present, she’s still medicated so we’ve been unable to speak with her.”

My heart thumps loudly in my chest. “That can’t be right. How could Peeta and I be in separate cars? I remember the lettering on the bakery door. I remember Peeta’s cheese buns. We’re married.”

“You’re not. Rye Mellark planted that false idea. There’s no evidence that you ever met Peeta Mellark before yesterday. When your mother arrives, she’ll confirm everything I’ve said.” 

_My mother? I don’t know that woman. I want Peeta. _I think about our conversation on his bed, holding hands, kissing. I’m in love with him. I feel like screaming, breaking something, throwing up. I twist my wedding ring round my finger – _wow, it really itches_. _Could I be allergic to gold?_

None of what Officer Boggs says makes any sense. Why would Rye lie to the hospital? Then, an even more horrible thought occurs. I lean forward. “What’s Peeta’s connection to Johanna Mason?” 

Officer Boggs frowns. “They appear to be neighbors.”

_Okay he’s not married to her._ My eyes drop to my left hand, and I remember Peeta said he found the rings in a box in his pocket. _Were he and Johanna planning to surprise the family by holding their wedding at the cabin? Rye mentioned Peeta told him he was bringing a mystery bride._

My throat tightens. I can barely speak. “Is Peeta here?”

Officer Boggs shakes his head. “No. He was questioned back at the Mellark house where we found you. It seems his memory is returning. He told one of our officers that he now realizes that he had no prior relationship to you before yesterday.”

My head falls to the table. Tears flow down my cheeks, but I’m too embarrassed to show my face to Officer Boggs. 

_Peeta must have remembered his fiancée Johanna Mason. He’s probably rushing to her side even now. My life is over._


	6. Chapter 6

Officer Boggs leaves me alone to mourn. I’m lost in my pain when the door opens. I lift my head. My mother and sister stand in front of me. My mother’s eyes are puffy. “I thought I’d never see you again.” 

Prim reaches for her arm. “See, she’s okay. I told you Katniss could take care of herself just fine.”

_They’re upset._ I study their faces as they take seats across from me. _Nothing._ “Everyone was very kind to me.” Then I think about Peeta and burst into tears. 

My mother starts crying, too.

My sister reaches into her shoulder bag and pulls out some tissues. She hands a couple to each of us. “I hope those are tears of joy for being reunited with your _real_ family,” Prim says.

I shake my head as I dry my cheeks. “I thought I was married to the most wonderful guy. His name is Peeta.”

My mother’s tears stop, and her face grows red as she stares at the ring on my hand. “You need to take that off. Your finger looks infected. Did this Peeta give it to you so he could entice you into having sex?” 

I gasp at her fury. _She must have really been worried. I need to set her straight._ “It wasn’t like that. Peeta had amnesia, too. His brother Rye was the one who told us we were married.” 

“Your kidnapper, Rye Mellark? I hope he goes to prison and the key is thrown away.”

_Would they really do that?_ “I don’t want Rye locked up. I just want Peeta back. I love him.” 

My mother and sister exchange looks. “Stockholm syndrome,” my mother says. “That must be it. She’s defending her captors.”

“Has any of your memory returned?” Prim asks. “Anything that happened prior to the car accident?” 

“I remember Mellark Bakery. I remember the gold lettering on the door and eating cheese buns.” 

“I’m surprised you’d think of cheese buns,” Prim says. “You don’t eat much gluten these days.” 

“I don’t? Am I allergic?” 

Prim snorts. “Nope, just very controlling about your diet.”

_Why?_ Before I can ask more my mother volunteers, “Your father used to take you to their flagship store when you were little.”

“I liked to look at the decorated cakes,” Prim adds.

Curious I ask, “Where _is_ dad?” _Why hasn’t he made an appearance?_

A startled look comes over both women. Prim presses her hand over Mom’s. “He died years ago. You don’t remember anything about that?” 

“No.”

A panicked look flashes across my mother’s face. _What’s that about?_

“Look, maybe this will trigger something,” Prim says. She pulls her cell phone from her purse, taps the screen and shows some photos of me dressed as an attendant in a wedding. “That’s Madge’s and Gale’s wedding.”

I turn their names and faces over in my mind. _Nothing._ “Do _I_ have a boyfriend?” 

Prim chuckles. “You’re too picky.” 

_Probably because I’ve been waiting all my life for Peeta.   
_

My mother stands up. “Let’s take you home, Katniss.”

But that’s easier said than done. Officer Boggs gives my mother paperwork to fill out because I can’t remember any of my personal information like my address and phone number. Then we’re escorted out the back because the authorities give a press conference about me in front of the building and everyone – law enforcement and my mother -- has decided I’m not in any shape to participate in it.

As soon as Prim starts the engine the press conference comes on the radio, but she immediately fiddles with the dial switching to a classical music station. Mozart may be calming, but I want to know what’s going on. My mother sits beside me in the backseat holding my hand and stroking my braid, while my sister keeps looking at me in her rearview mirror. _This is weird._

Prim drives me to my apartment building. It’s old, but at least the grass is cut and the planting beds are maintained. _I guess I’m not wealthy after all._ I follow my mother and sister upstairs to my unit. My sister pulls a key from her bag and unlocks the door.

As I walk through the apartment an overwhelming sense of sadness fills me. It’s neat as a pin, and all the furniture is a bland beige color. _Why would anyone want to spend time in this depressing place? Am I too poor to decorate?_ “What do I do for a living?” I ask my mother.

“You teach second grade. But it’s summer so you’re off work until school starts up in the fall.”

We go into the bedroom, and my mother opens my closet to show me my clothes. _Ugh. They’re all so plain and ugly. _Dark colors, no prints, not a single dress_. _I sit down on the bed and sigh. _Why do I dress like this?_

“I think it would be best if Katniss came to our house until her memory returns,” my mother says. Prim seems to think I’ll remember something if I stay in my own apartment. Without asking my opinion of the matter, they decide on a compromise, allowing me to spend the day in my apartment, before my mother returns later to take me to back to the house she and my sister share for the night.

“Don’t leave here,” my sister warns before they go. “We don’t want to lose you again.”

“Why don’t you take a nap,” my mother suggests. “Who knows, a good sleep and you might wake up feeling like your old self.”

_I am tired._ _So tired._ “I will.” I smile at them and say “Thanks.” I don’t know them, but it’s obvious they care about me.

As soon as they leave, I lock the door, strip down to my underwear and crawl beneath the covers of my bed. I quickly drift off. It’s past 1 p.m. when I wake up. _I’m starving_. I search the kitchen for something to eat. But the cupboards are bare and the refrigerator only contains almond milk and expired yogurt. 

_Maybe I was going grocery shopping when Johanna Mason crashed into my vehicle. _I wonder where my car is now? How do I get it back?

I locate a file folder labeled `insurance’ in a small desk in the corner of the dining room. I call my agent to report the accident. Since I can’t remember anything, the agent says she’ll email me paperwork to fill out. It’s not until I hang up that I realize I don’t know my email password, let alone have a way to access my email. _Just another thing to deal with._

My stomach growls loudly, and I put my clothes back on realizing I’ll have to leave my apartment to get food. After a quick search, I find some loose bills in my desk. _I wish I knew where my wallet was._

I can’t even lock my front door because my sister didn’t leave the key with me. But I reason there’s not much to steal anyway so it doesn’t matter. As I walk through the apartment parking lot to reach the sidewalk, I catch sight of the Channel 12 news van. As soon as I pass it, a familiar woman – the one with half of her head shaved -- jumps out and runs to my side. She looks exhausted.

“Hello, Katniss,” she says. “I wanted to ask you a few questions.” A man jogs up beside her, a camera on his shoulder. “Law enforcement says you have no previous relationship to anyone in the Mellark family,” the reporter asks. “Is that true?” 

_That’s what everyone says. _“My memory hasn’t returned yet.”

“But you do remember being released from the hospital into Rye Mellark’s custody?”

“Yes.”

She smiles. “That’s what I want to ask you about. Why do you think he did it?”

I may have amnesia but I haven’t lost my mind. Everyone knows a person shouldn’t talk with reporters who ambush you, and I’ve said too much already. But then she probably knows stuff I don’t. Things I want answers to. _Maybe we can help each other._

She must read my mind because she asks, “How about if I make it worth your while? Would you talk to me then?”

“Maybe,” I hedge. “I have some questions about the Mellark family.”

She smiles. “I can help you with that. Part of my job is gathering information. We were just going to get lunch. Why don’t you join us? I’m Cressida Jones and this is my driver and camera man, Pollux Williams.”

Maybe it seems crazy to willingly get into a vehicle with two more strangers after all I’ve been through, but they work for Channel 12 news, so I figure they’re _safe_. 

While Pollux drives, Cressida plays with her phone, looking up information about Peeta’s family. “Why didn’t you do this yourself?” she asks.

“I don’t know where my phone is and I couldn’t find a computer in my apartment.”

“What exactly are you trying to find out?”

“I was curious about Peeta and Johanna Mason? Are they a couple?”

She gives me a knowing look, as Pollux pulls the car into the lot of a sandwich shop. “Sorry, I don’t know. I’ve tried to speak with Johanna Mason, but the medical facility refuses to let anyone but family in to see her. And the Mellark family isn’t talking.”

_Damn. _“What’s happened to Rye?”

“He’s was arraigned shortly after being arrested. His parents paid his bail. I’ve got a tip that his preliminary hearing is tomorrow morning. The prosecutor’s office is trying to rush this one through to avoid bad publicity for Dandelion General Hospital since they screwed up by releasing you into his custody.”

“My mother and sister work for the hospital.” 

Cressida smiles like a Cheshire cat. “That only adds to the complication of it all. I imagine this mess could go on for a good while because the Mellarks have the money to fight for their son. And your family could go after some kind of settlement from the hospital, too.”

Cressida treats me to a meatball sandwich, a brownie, and a coke. It’s my turn to share information. I give her a curated version of the events that occurred, leaving out my kiss with Peeta and the Mellarks’ divorce announcement “I have no idea why Rye took me from the hospital, but I can’t believe it was malicious. Is there anyway I can help him?”

A gleam appears in her eye. “Let me take you to Rye’s preliminary hearing tomorrow. That would make for an exciting lead story for the _News at Noon_. Who knows you might be able to talk with the judge.” She winks. “Maybe Peeta will be there, too, and he can answer your question.”

_Oh, I hope so._ “Okay.”

“We’ll pick you up at 9 a.m.,” Cressida says.


	7. Chapter 7

Cressida says she’ll pick me up at my mom’s house in the morning, even though I don’t know the address to give her. Pollux drops me off in front of my apartment. I go inside and pack an overnight bag. _I wish I had something nicer than black slacks and a white blouse to wear to court tomorrow. Don’t I own a colorful scarf at least_? 

While I wait for my mother, I go through my desk. I find a recent bank statement and am pleased to learn that I have some savings. I make a list of things I want to buy -- colorful sofa pillows, a cozy throw, a luxurious comforter for my bed, and some art for the walls. I scrutinize my wardrobe to ascertain what clothing I should purchase so I don’t look like a humorless ascetic when the turn of a key sounds in the lock.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Prim says. She stands before me dressed in scrubs. “Mom asked me to pick you up. She left work early to make your favorite meal for dinner.”

_My favorite meal. What is it?_

My mother and sister live in a small house a few blocks from the hospital. “Did I grow up here?” I ask as we walk up to an unrecognizable front porch.

“We both did. Mom and Dad bought the house just after you were born.”

With that information, I walk inside hoping something will strike me as familiar. But it’s like I’ve never seen the place before. The living room is crowded with overflowing bookcases and too much furniture. Still it is far more inviting than my apartment and the smell emanating from the kitchen makes my mouth water. 

“We’re here,” my sister calls out. 

My mother comes into the living room, wearing an apron and looking frazzled. “Do you remember any of this?” She waves her arm around the room. 

“Nope,” I say.

“I had hoped…” Her voice trails off, but she bites her lip and gives me a hug. “The lamb stew is ready. I was just about to set it out.”

_My favorite meal is lamb stew? Interesting. _

I sit down to a thick broth of tender lamb chunks with potatoes, carrots, and the surprising addition of dried plums, which provides a sweet taste. My mother serves the stew over a bed of wild rice. 

“This is delicious,” I tell her after a few bites. “You’re an excellent cook.” 

My mother beams. “There’s no gluten in it either.”

I snort. “I don’t care about that.”

“Good,” she says. “Because I made you chocolate cake for dessert.”

_Oh yum!_

I eat until I’m stuffed. Afterwards, I insist on cleaning up. My sister and I carry the dishes into the kitchen and load the dishwasher. Then we go to the living room. My mother has set a stack of photo albums on the coffee table. “Maybe you’d like to look at these.”

I join her on the sofa. My sister sits next to me. For the next hour we peruse the books. My mother reminisces over my childhood and my sister tells a story about me defending her from a school bully. It’s nice to learn something positive about _old_ me.

It’s clear from the photos that I bear a strong resemblance to my father. Like me, his hair was dark and his skin had an olive cast. I ask my mother about him and she gets teary. She tells me we had a special relationship. “You were Daddy’s little girl.”

We get to the final album. I expect it is full of pictures from my teen years, which have been left out of the other albums. But the label on front says _School Photos_.

My mother yawns. “Why don’t we do this later,” I suggest. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I can’t remember anything, and you look tired.”

She appears surprised by my comment, but she thanks me. “I am.”

“It’s been a rough couple of days, we should probably all call it a night,” Prim says. 

I feel like I’m at a slumber party as we all take turns using the single bathroom to prepare for bed. My mother even gives me some salve to put on my red finger. I’m pleased that she doesn’t insist I take the gold ring off like she did when she picked me up this morning. _It’s all I have of Peeta and I’m not ready to give him up yet._

As I lay in a twin bed in my sister’s room, I ask Prim some questions. “Why do you still live here with Mom, but I don’t?”

She laughs. “Mom doesn’t charge me rent and I’ve got a small fortune in student loans to pay back.”

“What about me?”

Prim sighs. “You’ve got a couple of loans too, far less than me of course, but you and Mom don’t get along so well.”

“We don’t? Why not?”

“After Dad died, Mom had a breakdown. You saved us, Katniss. You stood in line at the food bank so we didn’t go hungry. You lied about your age, got an after school job and supported the family until Mom was able to get it together.”

“_I_ did all that?” _Wow._

“Yes. But you’ve never forgiven Mom.

_I held a grudge against my mother for having a breakdown after Dad died? _“I didn’t know.”

Prim chuckles. “Well, now you do. I imagine it’s weird to be finding out all this stuff about yourself, but it’s nice to have a reasonable conversation with you for once about this matter. I’ve been begging you for years to let go of this grudge. You helped Mom when she couldn’t help us. But now the tables have turned and she wants to help you regain your memory.”

I wake up to pounding on the front door. The bed beside me is empty. There’s a note on it._ Mom and I have gone to work. Look through the albums some more. We’ll be home around six._

I get up to answer the door. It’s Cressida. “You’re not even dressed,” she shrieks. “Put something on. We’re going to be late.”

I dress in my black slacks and white blouse, and rush out of the house, grabbing a house key that sits in a dish on a small table by the door. When I climb into the back seat of the van, Cressida points to a makeup case on the floor. “You’re pale as a ghost. You need to look camera-ready.” 

While Pollux pushes the speed limit, I apply mascara, blush, and lipstick. We pull up in front of the courthouse just as I’ve finished finger-combing my hair to hang loose down my back.

“You look nice,” Cressida says.

I hope she’s right because I want to look my best for Peeta. I’m expecting him to be there and I want to look so good that he forgets he ever met Johanna Mason_._

Cressida leads the way while Pollux and I follow as she heads into the building and in the direction of the room where arraignments are held. “Damn, we’re so late,” Cressida mutters as we turn the corner.

At least a dozen people from the media stand in front of the closed double doors_. _“Hey, isn’t that Katniss Everdeen,” someone calls out.

I’m surrounded in less than thirty seconds. Cressida reaches for my arm, and yanks me from the crowd. “Remember, you’re my exclusive.” She opens the double doors of the courtroom and pushes me inside.

All proceedings stop when I enter the small room. Everyone turns to stare at me. My heart races and I twist my gold ring. The pain it causes my sore finger clears my head.

Everyone in the Mellark family throws me dark looks with the exception of Rye who appears nervous. But as I scan the group, my stomach drops. _Peeta isn’t here_.

The judge glares at me. “Reporters are banned from this court room.” The bailiff walks toward me.

“I’m Katniss Everdeen. And I wasn’t kidnapped or abducted or whatever you’re calling it.”

“She’s not supposed to be here,” the prosecutor says to the judge. “She’s mentally incapacitated.”

“Please approach the bench, Miss Everdeen,” the judge says. When I get to the front, he calls a halt to the proceedings and asks me to join him inside his chambers, along with the prosecutor, Rye, and Rye’s attorney

We sit crowded around a small table in his office. “Why have you come to my courtroom?” the judge asks. “I was under the assumption you’re suffering from memory loss.”

“I’ve lost my memory, but not my sense of right and wrong.” I then explain what happened to me, emphasizing the kindness of the Mellarks who mistakenly welcomed me as a new member of their family.

“That’s what I told you,” Rye blurts out. He turns to his attorney. “I showed you my brother’s text about bringing a mystery bride to our family gathering. And when the nurse at the hospital mentioned that a woman had been in the accident with Peeta, I assumed...”

“That’s enough Mr. Mellark,” the judge stops him.

But Rye is on a roll. “I was confused and trying to help out my brother. I thought Katniss was the woman he said he was bringing.”

“Look son, you lied to hospital staff,” the judge says sternly. “That can’t go unpunished even if Dandelion General would like to forget it ever happened because of the bad publicity.”

Still a smile appears on the judge’s face as he instructs both attorneys. “You heard the facts from Miss Everdeen. I believe a plea bargain is in order here, gentleman. False imprisonment is a lesser charge than abduction. See what magic you two can conjure up and maybe we can avoid going to trial.”

The bailiff appears and leads me out of the judge’s chambers through a side door. I’m in a new hallway. I have no idea where I am. 

I end up wandering around the building. By the time I find the courtroom, the reporters focus on the Mellark family who stand outside it. Microphones are directed at Rye. He answers questions.

I come behind Cressida and tug at her arm. She turns. “What happened?” she mouths, pulling me away from the crowd.

“I talked to the judge. The attorneys are going to work up some kind of plea deal to go easy on Rye.” 

“Great,” Cressida says. “So how about we find a quiet corner and I’ll interview you for _News At Noon_.

Ugh. It’s the last thing I want to do especially as I know my mother will be upset that I’ve gotten involved, but I owe Cressida. She helped me save Rye. _Now if I only knew where Peeta was._

My answer comes soon enough because a reporter asks Rye about Peeta. “How is your brother handling this matter?”

Rye’s voice carries down the hallway. “His memory has returned in full. At this very moment he’s at the bedside of the woman he planned to bring to our family gathering.”

My throat tightens._ Peeta’s not mine_. I remove the gold band from my finger and shove it into the pocket of my slacks, as I mentally prepare myself for Cressida’s interview.


	8. Chapter 8

Pollux drives me back to my mother’s house after the interview. I’m eating leftover lamb stew when the front door opens. “I didn’t know you were coming home early.”

My mom frowns as she walks to the dining table. She pulls out a chair and sits down. “Katniss, did you leave the house this morning?”

My mouth is full of tender lamb and sweet carrots so I can only nod.

“Did you go to Rye Mellark’s arraignment?” 

_I knew she wasn’t going to be happy about it. _Nodding again, I swallow the food in my mouth.

“And were you interviewed for Channel 7’s _News At Noon_?”

I wipe my lips clean with a napkin. “Did you see it?”

My mother inhales deeply. “No, I didn’t. But the hospital CEO’s wife saw it and called her husband, which meant I was called to his office and read the riot act about you drawing attention to the hospital’s error. Did someone from the Mellark family ask you to help them?”

My eyes grow big. Does she think Peeta’s been in touch with me? _I wish._ “I haven’t been in contact with any of them since law enforcement found me. Cressida Jones from Channel 7 News told me about the hearing. She drove me there.”

My mom smoothes out the tablecloth. “Look, honey. I’m very upset about what happened to you. My employer was lax beyond belief by releasing you into that man’s custody. It may have turned out okay, but Rye Mellark could have been a rapist or a murderer."

_No wonder she was so upset when she picked me up._

She continues. “I could sue the only hospital in town but then I’d have to quit my job and Prim’s internship would probably be cut short. And I like what I do. I’m good at it. Besides I know Dandelion General is taking steps to tighten their patient release policy to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.”

I never thought about the effect my interview could have on my mother’s and sister’s employment. “I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have done the interview. Still I’m glad I helped Rye. He’s not a bad person and he’ll probably get a lighter sentence because I spoke up.”

My mother appears surprised by my quick apology. _Is she used to me arguing with her?_ She opens her mouth to say something, but then her eyes fall upon my bare left hand. She stands up. “Since I have the rest of the day off, how about we find out what happened to your car? I’ll get some salve for your finger, first.” 

I’m glad she doesn’t question me about why I took the ring off, but I expect she understands that I’ve mentally said goodbye to Peeta.

With that change of topic, we are back on good terms. After a call to the local police station, my mother learns that my car was towed to an impound lot. She drives me there and convinces the man behind the counter that I am Katniss Everdeen, the owner of the white sedan that was brought in a couple of days ago. I guess it helps that the man recognizes me from _News At Noon_.

He directs us to the section of the lot where it’s parked. I don’t even know which vehicle is mine – my mother points it out to me_._ As we get closer, it appears to be in good shape until we go around to the driver’s side. The damage is so bad that for once I’m glad I can’t remember the accident.

“You’re lucky you weren’t killed,” my mother cries out. Her eyes fill with tears. I come closer and peer inside. On the floor of the front passenger seat sits a purse. Keys are still in the ignition.

I squeeze through the mangled door and bent steering wheel and grab them. Opening my purse I find a cell phone. “Look.” I turn it on to find several texts. “Who’s Gale?” 

“Your oldest friend,” my mother says, wiping at her eyes. “Prim showed you pictures of his wedding to Madge.” 

“That’s right. Apparently he’s wondering how I’m doing.”

“Invite them to dinner tonight,” my mother suggests. “If anyone can help you remember, Gale might be the one.”

_Who is this guy to me?_

“Okay.” I shoot off a text. _I’m fine but haven’t regained my memory. Bring Madge with you to dinner at my mom’s house tonight._

We return to her house and my mother helps me to file an official claim with the insurance company so I can either get my car repaired, or get a payout to buy a new one.

“I can’t remember the last time we’ve spent the day together,” my mother says as she prepares a green salad.

I stir the spaghetti sauce. “Prim told me that we haven’t always gotten along.”

My mother falls silent. _Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it._ _But I want a good relationship with her._

“I can’t remember the past,” I continue. “But I’m sorry if I hurt you.” I still can’t believe that I was so hardhearted as to hold a grudge against a woman for having a breakdown after her husband died. I only knew Peeta for less than a day, and even though he wasn’t mine, I feel real anguish about losing him. _I can’t imagine how lost I’d feel if we’d really been married and had two children and then he was gone._

My sister arrives home after six. She seems delighted at how well my mother and I are getting along. I immediately apologize to her about the interview. “I hope it didn’t make it hard for you at work today.” 

Before she can respond, the doorbell rings. Prim opens the door to Gale and Madge. My friend Gale is tall, with dark hair similar to my own. His wife, a pretty woman with reddish blonde hair, throws her arms around me. “We’ve been so worried, Katniss. How are you?”

I step away awkwardly. “Okay, I guess. You must be Madge.” 

She startles at my reply. _Maybe she thinks I’d remember her?_ Her husband eyes me carefully as if he can’t decide whether I’m serious or not. _How did we become friends?_

As soon as Prim changes out of her scrubs, everyone sits down to eat. “It’s good to see you with a healthy appetite again,” Madge says.

_What a weird thing to say. Did old me have an eating disorder?_

Over dinner the couple regales me with stories of our long friendship. _I sound like some kind of curmudgeon._ Apparently I’ve known Gale since I was a teenager. In fact we dated for a short time – Gale even gave me my first kiss. He jokes about it in front of everyone. “You kiss like a fish.” 

_This is my friend? He seems like a jerk._ “No way,” I respond. _Peeta seemed to enjoy my kiss just fine._ “Maybe it was you.” 

Gale chuckles. “Nope, it was definitely you.” He looks to his wife. “Don’t you agree that I’m a good kisser?” 

Madge answers by turning her head toward him and giving him a brief peck on the lips.

A wave of sadness washes over me as I watch them. I’m not jealous of Madge because I’m not impressed with Gale, but I wish Peeta were here by my side.

Afterwards, we go into the living room and Madge shows me at least a hundred photos from her phone -- about half are from her wedding day. I smile politely, but I don’t want to see wedding photos, especially when I’m desperately trying to avoid thinking of the husband who was never mine to begin with.

I spend the next few days alone at my mother’s house, while my mom and sister are at work. I put my free time to good use by shopping online for items to spruce up my apartment. My insurance agent calls to say that my car is being repaired but that it will need a new paint job because the color of the new driver’s door doesn’t match the same shade of white as the rest of the vehicle. “If you want we can change the car’s color at no extra cost.”

“Paint it red.”

At the end of the week, my mother takes me to a neurologist. My brain is scanned again and the doctor studies my eyes with a flashlight. He tells me my memory could return at any time, or perhaps never. To my mother’s great disappointment – I think she’d love for me to move back home permanently because we get along so well now -- he clears me to drive and suggests I return to my apartment. “It might help you to reconnect with yourself.” 

He also recommends I see a therapist, Dr. Mark Aurelius. I don’t know why I need to meet with a therapist since I can’t remember anything. _Isn’t that the main reason people seek counseling -- to deal with problems rooted in their past? _But the neurologist is insistent and says it might help me in the process of re-creating my life.

Amazingly Dr. Aurelius has a cancellation for the very next day. I spend my last evening at my mother’s house packing up a rental car with all the new household goods that have already been delivered for my home. _I can’t wait to begin decorating._

The next morning, I share a pancake breakfast with my mother and sister before leaving for my first therapy session. I spend most of it recounting the same story I told Officer Boggs a week earlier. Dr. Aurelius’ eyes close while I speak and I wonder if he even listens to me.

“So you can’t remember anything about your past?” he asks.

_Didn’t I already make that clear?_ “That’s right.”

“Do you have any concerns about your future?” 

Now that I’m returning to my apartment some concerns have been creeping in. “I’m a school teacher but I’m not sure how I’m supposed to face a classroom of second graders if I can’t remember how to be a teacher.” 

“You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

_Figure it out? _

He sends me on my way, telling me to call him if I have any breakthroughs. Otherwise come back in a couple of weeks. I’m not very impressed with Dr. Aurelius. _I doubt I’ll come back to see him again._

I pick up groceries at the market before driving to my apartment. I spend the afternoon re-arranging my living room furniture, reorganizing my kitchen cupboards, and taking everything out of my clothes closet. I put the clothing I dislike into a pile on the floor. I will wash it all before donating it to a thrift store. I decide to empty the clothes in my hamper on top of the pile. As I tip the basket, a thick notebook that was underneath the soiled clothing falls out.

_What’s this?_ I pick it up and open it. My heart races with excitement._ What luck! I kept a diary._


	9. Chapter 9

I look at a page in the middle of the journal_. _

** _ I hate my life. I feel so hopeless. How did I end up here? Will I ever be happy? _ **

Reading these words in my own hand hits me like a punch in the gut. _What happened in my life to bring me to such despair?_

I shut the book abruptly. I’m almost scared to read this diary because it could trigger an avalanche of memories that are _bad_ and I might not be able to handle them. _Still you need to know_, I reason. 

In an attempt to make the proceedings as pleasant as possible, I grab a spoon and a pint of rocky-road from the freezer. I lie on the couch, prop my head upon a colorful pillow and wrap my fuzzy new throw blanket around me.

I settle down to read. After a few pages, it’s clear to me that I was depressed. 

I had problems at work. My class was wild and I had trouble managing them. I directed the school play and a student’s parents threatened to get me fired when I didn’t give their darling the starring role. Although I was vindicated in my decision, the parents complained up the entire chain of command and the school superintendent became involved. Humiliated, I considered changing careers entirely but I had no idea what to do.

Being Madge’s maid-of-honor was another stressor. On several pages I referred to her as “bridezilla.” She insisted that I purchase an attendant’s dress that I disliked and was beyond my budget, but I was too embarrassed to speak up so I swallowed my feelings and gave in. I was also upset that Gale was paying more attention to his fiancée than me.

_What?_ I snort ice cream out of my nose. _Did I want Gale?_ _Yuck!_ _Madge can have him._

A few pages further I am both disgusted and ashamed. _I was so desperate for affection that I slept with some random guy I met at an out-of-state teacher’s conference. I mention his slight resemblance to Gale._ The ice cream churns in my stomach, and I think I might throw up. I set the container onto the floor. 

To top it off, I was experiencing chronic stomachaches. Instead of going to a doctor, I devised my own treatment by making severe dietary changes. Still the stomachaches continued.

As I read I can’t help but wonder if my memory loss is psychological, not physical_. Maybe I don’t want to remember my old life_.

Loathe as I am to call on that quack, my mind goes to Dr. Aurelius. _I can’t show this journal to Prim or my mother. I’m mortified about what I wrote and it happened to me! _But this kind of information might help Dr. Aurelius determine why I can’t remember anything. Not that I want to turn back into the Katniss who lives in the pages of this journal, but I need to _remember something_ because summer will soon be over and I have no idea how to be a teacher. 

After a restless night, I call Dr. Aurelius. He seems intrigued. “I have an opening tomorrow morning.” _Are all his patients canceling on him?_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Have you asked your family about your state of mind prior to the accident?” This time the doctor’s eyes stay wide open as he flips through the pages of my diary. It doesn’t bother me that’s he’s perusing my private journal because I don’t know the woman in those pages. I feel badly for her, but it’s not me. At least not the_ me_ I’m familiar with.

I shake my head. “I think I may have been putting on a show and hiding my pain from them.”

“Are you responsible for the accident that caused the blow to your head?” he asks.

My mouth falls open. _Does he think I was trying to take my own life?_

“No. The other driver was at fault.” I mentally thank Johanna Mason. At least I have something to be grateful to her for. “Do you think this is the reason I can’t remember anything?”

“Could be, but I can’t know for sure.” He closes the book and hands it back to me.

_Well he’s no help._ “What should I do now?” 

“Build anew. So many people would like to forget their past and begin over. You’ve been given a wonderful opportunity.”

“But what if I make a new life and then my memory returns and it gets complicated?” _Like puzzle pieces that do not fit together._

“Have a little faith in the process. Unless you remember a husband and four kids that haven’t revealed themselves to you yet, you should be fine.”

I leave pondering his suggestion. Maybe I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. Maybe I have been given a gift. Still I can’t help but be curious about old Katniss. _What would she think about the changes I’m making? _I wrap my arms around myself to give me a hug.

I return home resolved to continue writing in the journal to keep it current. _Your story isn’t over yet, Katniss. I will turn around your wreck of a life, I promise._

The next couple of weeks pass without incident as I create new memories. My mother and I talk daily. I shop for stylish clothes, see a movie with my sister, go out to lunch with Madge who it turns out is fun when she’s apart from Gale. I return my rental vehicle and pick up my repaired, red car.

Ever since the accident, my sleep has been dreamless, but one night I wake up thinking of Peeta. Was I dreaming about him? I’m not sure. But I have this terrific urge to speak with him. He’s the only other amnesiac I know. Maybe he could tell me how his memory returned. Maybe he could help me. I know he’s kissing another pair of lips now, but I’ve made my peace with all that. Besides I should give him the gold ring back. It might be a family heirloom.

I don’t know where Peeta lives, but I know that he works at one of the Mellark bakeries, although I don’t know which one. So the next afternoon, I set out to find him.

My plan is to find out if Peeta’s working; if so I’ll leave and approach him in the parking lot when his shift ends. At the bakery nearest to my apartment, I look through the window and see his sister-in-law Fern behind the counter. I decide to try a different store. It stands to reason that Peeta’s oldest brother and his wife might operate this one.

I look through the front window of the second bakery and see an unfamiliar middle-aged woman at the cash register. _Good._ My eyes fly to the gold lettering on the door. A feeling of surety comes over me at the familiar sight.

Pushing the door open, a soft bell tinkles and sugary smells surround me. I take a deep breath and sigh contentedly.

“Can I help you?” the woman asks, as her lone customer leaves the shop.

I request two cheese buns. Once I have paid for them, I ask if Peeta is working today.

“He’s in the back now.”

My thought of sitting in my car until his shift ends goes out the window. Suddenly I can’t wait any longer. “Would it be possible to speak with him?”

At the mere rise of her eyebrows, it hits me like a brick. I’m not over Peeta. He has someone and I’m trying to worm my way in to his life. Is this how old Katniss felt about Gale? _Maybe we are exactly the same after all. _

But I resolve to be a better person. Before the woman can answer my question, I take the gold ring from my pocket and place it on the counter. “Give this to Peeta,” I murmur before I rush out the door without my cheese buns. 

I start the engine of my car when I see Peeta run down the sidewalk dressed in white. His head turns back and forth. The white bandage is gone, replaced by an ugly black hairnet. He sees me and waves. I take a deep breath and turn off the motor. My legs are like jelly as I walk toward him.

“Katniss.” His face lights up. “You forgot your purchase.” He reaches upward and tears off his hairnet. Curls fly out in every direction. I want to run my hands through them; instead I hold out my hand and reach for the bag.

“What did you buy?” He smiles and my eyes focus on his dimples. _How I missed them._

My cheeks burn. “Cheese buns.” This scene reminds me of our foolish conversation right before he kissed me.

His eyes twinkle. “You know I invented them.”

_He remembers._ I nearly swoon, but I pull myself together. “Did your employee give you the ring?" 

He holds up his pinkie finger. He’s wearing it. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he continues. “I feel terrible about everything and I wanted to talk with you. But I thought you probably wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

_Why would he think that?_

“I came here to ask about your memory. I overheard Rye say at the press conference that it had returned.”

His cheeks flush. “Yeah, it’s back all right.” He shifts on his feet. “Come inside. We can talk in the back.”

I follow Peeta inside the bakery, past the counter woman, and into the kitchen.

Trays of sugar cookies lay on the counter and a pastry bag sits nearby. “I hope you don’t mind if I work while we talk,” Peeta says. “I’ve got to get these done for a special order.”

I feel self-conscious in his presence. I can’t help but admire his muscular forearms as he pipes a heart in the center of each cookie. I stare at his lips and remember how soft they felt on mine. “No it’s fine.”

Peeta catches my eye. “Before you say anything, Katniss, I need to thank you for speaking up for Rye. He’s getting community service instead of jail time.”

“That’s good.”

Peeta frowns. “I suppose so, but the problem is I’m the reason for the entire mess.”

“How is it your fault? You had amnesia, too.”

He sets down the pastry bag. “I need to tell you a story about a guy that did something really idiotic.” He looks like he might cry.

“What happened?” I ask.

He grimaces. “My family’s been bugging me for years to get married so I asked my neighbor to pretend to be my wife to shut them up. Only we got into a car crash the day before I was going to introduce her to them. Rye didn’t know. That’s why he got you out of the hospital.”

“So you aren’t married, then?” 

“Nope.”

_Peeta’s single. Oh happy day!_


	10. Chapter 10

“I’m not married either,” I blurt out.

A hint of a smile appears on Peeta’s face causing me to blush. _Could I be any more obvious about my feelings for him? _

“I’m sorry you got mixed up in all of this,” he says. “I should have told my parents to mind their own business a long time ago.” 

_Poor Peeta._ Still I can’t help but be thrilled he didn’t because it means I have the opportunity to get to know him. _And who knows what will happen now. _“I understand about not getting along with family. I was barely on speaking terms with my mom prior to losing my memory. Now we talk regularly.”

“So you’ve regained your memory, too?”

I shake my head. “No, that’s one of the reasons I came here to see you. I wanted to find out how it felt when it happened. Did it come back all at once or did it occur over the course of several hours? What do you think triggered it?”

Peeta picks up the pastry bag again. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight, Katniss. I can answer all your questions then. Besides maybe I can even help you.”

_Help me? How? _But that thought flies out of my head because I’m excited that he’s asking me on a date. “Okay. I’ll write my address down for you.”

He lets me out the back door so I don’t need to walk past the nosy employee behind the front counter. I drive home and change into one of my new purchases, a pretty yellow dress with blue flowers. I pin my braid up into a low bun and put on some makeup.

Peeta arrives at my apartment promptly at five thirty wearing a dark slacks, a dress shirt, sports jacket and tie. I’m impressed that he dressed up for the occasion. He steps inside for a moment. “Nice apartment,” he says as he surveys my newly decorated living room. “But you need some art for the walls.”

“I know. I’m still trying to figure out what to get.”

“I could paint you something,” he says.

I am giddy. _He obviously plans to continue seeing me._ “You’re an artist, too?”

“I am.”

He drives us to a nearby family restaurant. “I know this place is kind of cheesy,” he says as he turns into the parking lot. “But the special tonight is steak and it’s really good.” 

_I’d be happy if we went to McDonalds. _“No, this is fine.”

As we get out of the vehicle, Peeta reaches for a large envelope that sits on the back seat to bring it inside with him.

_What’s that?_

Inside, the hostess leads us to a table at the back of the room. We pass by a young girl eating with her parents. She calls out, “Miss Everdeen.” I smile and wave at her.

“Do you know her?” Peeta whispers.

“Maybe. I teach second grade.”

I don’t even bother to look at the menu. I order my steak medium-rare like Peeta. As soon as the waitress leaves, I ask him about how he got his memory back.

“It took several hours. Remember when we were doing the puzzle that night at the cabin and my dad started telling family stories and I remembered the cookie jar? Some of the puzzle pieces had flowers on them. As we were sorting them out, I remembered piping the flowers onto cakes. My dad and I stayed up late talking. The major stuff was back by the next morning.”

“Lucky you.”

“The odds have definitely been in my favor even though I don’t deserve it,” he admits. “How are you getting along without remembering your past?”

“Okay. But I found my diary. Apparently I was miserable before. I had reservations about my job, and was unhappy in my personal life too.”

“Was there someone special in your life?” I see tension lines form around his eyes and hear the caution in his voice.

I think of Gale and my one-night stand at the teacher’s conference, and shudder. “No.”

Peeta’s face visibly relaxes, and he chuckles “That’s good news for me.” He gives me a shy smile and an unexpected warmth courses through me. I remember feeling that way before – when Rye told me that Peeta was my husband.

“Maybe this will trigger something.” He picks up the envelope, which he’d set on the seat. “This entire experience has caused me to reconsider my life. Consequently I’ve gone through a lot of old photos. This might mean something to you.” He pulls a photo from the envelope. It’s a picture of a kindergarten class. All the children stand on risers with goofy grins on their faces. He turns it toward me.

“See this girl here.” He points to a scrawny child in braids wearing a red, plaid dress. “She sang to the class on the first day of school. And here I am.” His finger moves to the chubby blond boy next to her. The boy’s head is turned toward the girl in a worshipful gaze.

Confused I murmur, “That’s nice.”

“Look at the names underneath, Katniss.”

There is my name, right next to his name. My eyes fly from the photo to his face. “We were in school together?” _Have we known each other for years?_ _Why didn’t anyone tell me?_

Peeta shakes his head. “We only crossed paths for a couple of months when we were five. Rye got suspended from second grade for putting a jelly donut on his teacher’s chair. My Mom pulled all of us out of the public school and enrolled us in private school. But you were my first crush. I thought about you for years. That memory came back when I looked through the photos.”

I remember my Mom wanted to show me my school photos but I said “no.” _But even if I did look at them, I probably never would have bothered to read the names at the bottom to make the connection._

“You know, I think I figured out why I was so against my family pressuring me to find a wife,” Peeta says. “I think I was waiting for you.”

_This sounds exactly like the man I fell in love with. _

The waitress brings our steak and we talk all through dinner. We update each other on what’s happened since we’ve been apart. I tell Peeta that his gold ring caused a rash on my finger and he says he already threw it away, and holds up his pinkie, which has a faint red mark on it. _He must be allergic, too._

“My neighbor Johanna bought both rings at a yard sale for fifty cents. Who knows what kind of metal they’re made from.” Peeta goes on to tell me that his neighbor is engaged to a deployed Navy SEAL who Peeta met for the first time when he went to visit her in the hospital. “I think it was easier to explain my half-assed scheme to my parents than to that scary guy. Fortunately Johanna has him wrapped around her finger.” 

As we linger over apple pie alamode for dessert, I ask about his family. “Is the divorce tearing everyone apart?”

“It’s been put on hold,” Peeta says. “Rye’s legal situation forced my parents to come together to help him, and then my dad persuaded my mom to consider marriage counseling. Now they’re talking about taking a cruise.” 

Eventually we leave the restaurant relinquishing the table that we’ve hogged far too long. Peeta drives me home and walks me to my door. I invite him inside so we can continue our non-stop conversation. “It’s probably not a good idea,” he admits. “Because I doubt we’ll be talking for very long.”

A shiver runs down my back because I feel exactly the same way. “You’re probably right.” I’m head over heels for this man, but I don’t want to rush things, either. _I’m not old Katniss who jumps into bed with someone when she feels needy. I want to savor everything about Peeta._

I’m ready to turn and unlock my door, when Peeta’s hands fall onto my shoulders. He leans in and I close my eyes waiting for his soft lips to meet mine. This time we’re not interrupted and our kiss continues for a couple of minutes until both of us need to break apart to take a breath.

“You’re making it really difficult for me to leave,” he murmurs. 

After _that kiss_ my lips already feel swollen. With great reluctance, I turn and unlock my door. “Goodnight,” I say as I slip in and shut the door. I lie down on the couch and run a finger over my lips replaying the kiss again and again in my mind._ When will I see him again?_

Thirty minutes later my phone rings. It’s Peeta. We talk for another hour. Finally I insist that he hang up since it’s way past his “baker’s bedtime.”

For the first time since I bumped my head, I remember my dreams the following morning. They are all about Peeta.


	11. Chapter 11

“Mom, Prim, this is Peeta.” I squeeze my boyfriend’s hand for reassurance. My sister searches his face. My mother stiffly shakes his other hand.

Mom and Prim worry because I deliberately sought Peeta out, and we are now a couple. Even after showing her my kindergarten class photo, my mother still thinks I suffer from Stockholm syndrome – having strong feelings for Peeta only because Rye mistakenly told me I was his wife. My sister says that what Peeta and I share is not traditional Stockholm syndrome, but still she thinks I’ve moved too rapidly with this relationship.

“You haven’t dated much,” Prim says_._ “Maybe you should slow things down.”

_She clearly doesn’t know what I wrote in my diary._

Tonight over dinner in my apartment I plan to show them that they’re wrong. _If they only knew how wonderful Peeta was, they’d understand why I love him like I do._

It’s the first time either of them has come over to visit since I moved back from their house. They’ve been busy with work, while I’ve been busy with Peeta.

“You’ve done a great job decorating,” Prim says as she scans the living room. “Its so cozy in here. It was so plain before but then you said you needed to rest your eyes from the bright colors of the classroom.”

_I guess that makes sense, although it doesn’t explain the sterility and lack of comfort in my own home. My apartment was as depressing as my life._

“Where did you get that painting? It’s gorgeous.” My mother steps forward to study the large, colorful canvas Peeta painted for me. It hangs over my sofa. “Many of those flowers, the lavender, honeysuckle, primroses, and even the dandelions are good for healing,” she points out.

_How symbolic._ Still Peeta was only duplicating the photo of the meadow on the top of the puzzle box at his parent’s cabin – the puzzle we attempted to put together. “Peeta painted it.”

“I had no idea,” my mother says. The surprised look she gives him pleases me. _Could she be_ _softening toward him? _“You’re very talented. Do you have any formal training?”

Peeta may come from a well-off family, but I suspect she’s trying to figure out if he has any education beyond high school. _I suppose it’s only natural when one daughter is a doctor and the other a teacher._

“I minored in art in college,” Peeta says.

“What was your major?” Prim asks.

“Business management. My parents wanted all of us boys to be in a position to run the family business some day.”

“That was smart of your parents,” my mother says. _She_ is_ warming up._

I leave Peeta to talk with them while I go to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the meal. I doubt I did much cooking pre-amnesia because of the paltry amount of pots, pans, and other kitchen utensils I owned. However, I’ve taken to cooking like a duck takes to water. Peeta is teaching me. We eat dinner at each other’s apartments often and try out new recipes.

Tonight I make chicken enchiladas with a spicy mole sauce, and flan for dessert. Over our meal, I tell my family about my new job. Before the start of school, I went to Human Resources with a note from my neurologist and Dr. Aurelius explaining my memory loss, and requesting a position outside of the classroom. Fortunately I was able to transfer into a job in the school district office. I fill in for an administrative assistant on maternity leave.

“Do you like sitting behind a desk all day?” my mother asks. “You loved teaching so much.”

_It’s obvious I didn’t share the problems going on in my job with her._

“It’s all right, but then I don’t remember teaching so I can’t compare the two,” I respond. “Anyway, Dr. Aurelius and I agree that because of my memory loss this is the best solution for now.”

I see Dr. Aurelius regularly. I’m getting used to his laid back form of therapy. He doesn’t “fix” my problems. He listens to me ramble and then asks pertinent questions that force me to think about things in a different way. I tell him I don’t care if my memory never returns. “I’m happy right now.”

“The key to happiness is selective memory, anyway,” Dr Aurelius points out. “Too many people focus on the bad stuff and forget the good.”

“I think they like you,” I tell Peeta after my mother and sister leave our dinner party.

“What’s not to like?” he teases.

We sit on the sofa and cuddle. Peeta nibbles on my neck. I run my fingers through his curls. We were chaste all of six weeks before giving in and consummating our relationship. Still we had a conversation about it beforehand, each detailing our prior attachments. Of course, I only had the diary to reference. I have no idea what I did before I began writing in it, and I’m a bit nervous about what I _did_ write, so I insist that we both be tested for sexually transmitted diseases to be safe.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Fall arrives. Already Peeta and I talk about Thanksgiving. He suggests we invite my mom and Prim to share in his family’s holiday meal. His parents get along much better now and his father even hints of retirement. My mother likes Peeta; I think she might even be ready to meet Rye.

Peeta’s brother has a special place in my heart. His childhood antics may have torn Peeta and I apart in kindergarten but Rye redeemed himself by bringing us together again. Peeta also credits his neighbor for reuniting us. “If Johanna wasn’t such a bad driver we might never have found each other.”

I never got a chance to meet the woman who caused me to acquire a bump on the head. She and her boyfriend eloped after she got out of the hospital. She’s left Dandelion far behind. 

Peeta joins me when I visit with Madge and Gale, though. I didn’t tell him my suspicions of old Katniss’ feelings toward Gale – _I don’t want him to think I was a complete idiot_ \-- but he shares my present day thought that Gale is a pompous, smug ass. However like me, he enjoys Madge’s company. _She’s definitely Gale’s better half – far better._

The first weekend in November the four of us take a hike in the woods outside Dandelion. “Does this trail seem familiar?” Gale asks me as we set off. “You and I used to have a lot of fun hiking out here in the past.”

“Nope.”

He winks at me and I want to cringe. My head turns to Madge to note her reaction. _Gale is so tactless._

Madge and I walk behind as Gale and Peeta lead the way through the crunchy leaves. I listen as Gale tells my sweetheart about some insipid activity he did yesterday. Peeta makes a few polite comments and I think I owe Peeta for putting up with my old friend. _Peeta’s a saint._

“You’ve changed, Katniss,” Madge interrupts my thoughts. “You were so prickly before, always looking on the dark side. I think that bump on the head knocked some sense into you.”

Weirdly enough I agree with her. Old me was an unhappy woman.

“I used to be jealous of your friendship with Gale, you seemed so possessive of him,” she continues. “It seemed like you resented me for marrying him. But now you’re so content.”

_I’m content because of Peeta._ Still I wonder if Madge’s really even speaking to me or if her words have some kind of double meaning meant for her husband’s ears.

The men have stopped talking and an awkward silence remains as we all stroll up the ascending path. It’s clear they’ve heard what Madge said and are waiting for me to respond.

I take a deep breath. “I don’t remember what I was like before, Madge, but I’m sorry for hurting you in any way. You’re a good person and you deserve to be treated with respect.” _Hopefully your jerk husband realizes that._

She nods thoughtfully.

The trail ends at the top of the hill. We overlook over Dandelion and point out its to landmarks to each other. Peeta’s arm goes round me. I lean into him and feel at peace. _I’d like to freeze this moment._

Eventually we descend down the trail. We all go to a pizza parlor for an early dinner. Afterward Madge invites us back to their apartment to watch a movie. Peeta looks to me, but I shake my head. “Maybe another time.”

“What’s wrong?” Peeta asks when we get to the car. “Tired of Gale’s monologue about how he repaired his carburetor?” Gale spent the entire meal breaking down the process for us.

“I have a headache.” It gets worse when Peeta brings me home. I change into my pajamas while Peeta gets an ice pack. He climbs into bed with me, and holds it to my head in the darkened room. When it still hurts after ten minutes he suggests, “Maybe I should take you to the emergency room to get it checked out.”

“For a headache? No thanks. I’m sick of hospitals. I’d rather you take care of me.”

Not missing a beat he blurts out, “I want to take care of you always. Will you marry me, Katniss?”

I knew we were headed in this direction, but I didn’t expect a proposal so soon. I thought he’d save it for Christmas or New Year’s Eve. I tear up and whisper “yes.” I aim for his lips but in the dark I miss and kiss his chin.

The ice pack ends up under a pillow as we awkwardly fumble until we find the other’s lips and kiss some more. But my head continues to ache, so we soon stop. Instead we talk about our future. Peeta wants to get married soon. I do, too. “I can’t wait to be Mrs. Peeta Mellark.” Eventually I doze off.

The first light of the morning streams through the slits of the blinds in my bedroom. I stretch out wondering at the chill in the room, but grateful for it. _It can get so warm in the summer._

Beside me, the noise of a soft sleep moan sounds. My heart races as I tilt my head to see a bare-chested man lying beside me.

_Who in the hell is he?_


	12. Chapter 12

I sneak out of bed taking care not to wake up the stranger beside me. I dart into the bathroom and stare into the large mirror over the sink. I wear a baggy orange t-shirt with _Mellark Bakery_ emblazoned across the front. The shirt skims the top of my thighs, showing a flash of orange. I lift it slightly to see lacy panties underneath.

_Why am I wearing these clothes? They’re not mine. Where did they come from? _My throat grows tight. It’s hard to breathe. I look toward my bed at the man who seems so comfortable in it. _What happened last night?_

I don’t have any symptoms of a hangover, like a dry mouth, a queasy stomach, or an aching head. _Maybe we were on a date and he put something in my drink or in my food. _I look at him again. _No, I doubt someone like that would ask me on a date. I probably picked him up somewhere. Did he bring these weird clothes along for me to wear? He probably thought they were sexy. Did we have sex?_

I’m not sore or anything. Still I remove the t-shirt from over my head and slip out of the panties looking for hickeys, bruises, the imprint of a hand on my naked body. Nothing. I look into the mirror and turn sideways. Maybe he left a mark on my back.

That’s when it hits me. _What the hell? I’ve put on weight._ My breasts are bigger, my buttocks is rounder._ How could I have such an obvious weight gain overnight? Did I eat something with gluten in it and have a weird reaction? _I study my face. It’s fuller and my cheeks are rosy. My eyes even look alert. _Am I feverish? _

I close my eyes and pinch the skin on the back of my hand. _Please be a dream._ But I open them to see the same face staring back at me.

The man groans. “Sweetheart, where are you?”

“In the bathroom,” I mumble, slamming the door so he won’t see my naked body, although I have a bad feeling he might already be familiar with it. I put the shirt and frivolous underwear back on.

_How can I get rid of him?_ _I know, I’ll tell him I have an appointment and he has to clear out now._

I wash my face, re-braid my hair, and use the toilet before I open the door again. He’s sitting up in bed, bare-chested grinning at me.

“I was wondering where my fiancée went.” His tone is light. Jovial.

_Fiancée? Who jokes like that?_

“How’s your head this morning? Is your headache gone?” 

_I can’t believe it. He did drug me. He’s practically admitting to it._

“You need to leave,” I say firmly using my teacher’s voice. “I have an appointment this morning.”

His eyes narrow and he gives me an odd look. “What’s going on, Katniss?”

“We may have had some fun last night, but I drank too much to remember it. You need to leave right now. I’m not looking for anything permanent.”

He gets out of bed to face me. He wears blue plaid boxer shorts and nothing else. A shiver goes down my back. _He’s not my type, but those arms, those dimples…. I wish I could remember what we did last night._

“Do you know who I am?” he asks gently. I can see concern in his eyes.

“Some guy I picked up?”

His face grows red, but he keeps his tone even. “I’m Peeta Mellark, your boyfriend. You agreed to marry me last night.”

“Mellark? Like the bakery chain?” I begin to giggle. “Now I know you’re lying. I can’t eat gluten, anymore. It hurts my stomach.”

“I invented cheese buns, Katniss. You’ve been gorging on them for months.”

_Is that how I gained weight?_ “Stop saying that we’re together,” I insist. “I’ve never seen you before. A single night does not make a relationship.”

“I can prove it.” His voice gets animated. He seems upset that I don’t believe him. He picks up my phone from the nightstand. “Call Madge. We went hiking with her and Gale yesterday and then had pizza with them afterwards. She’ll vouch for me.”

_Really? I haven’t spent much time with either of those two lately. He must have gone through my phone to come up with their names. _I rub my temple furiously. _Why can’t I remember what happened yesterday?_

I grab my phone from Peeta and sit down on the side of my bed. He casually sits next to me, putting me on edge. I look wildly around for a weapon in case he tries something. Suddenly I notice some additions to the room. A vanity table with a mirror sits in the corner. On top it is a perfume bottle and a silver comb and brush set. The coverlet I’m sitting on is new, too. _Where did all this stuff come from? _

“I guess your memory has finally returned and you don’t remember the past four and a half months,” Peeta says.

I throw him a dark look. “Returned? Where did it go?” But a moment later I gasp as I see the date on my phone. _November 5th. How is that possible? Could he have somehow changed the date on my phone?_

I wrap my arms around my chest, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. _What’s going on?_

As if he can read my mind Peeta answers my question in an even voice, the same reasoned voice I use when a student’s behavior has escalated and I’m trying to calm him. “You were in a car accident at the end of June and you lost your memory completely. I was a passenger in the car that hit you and I lost my memory, too, for about a day. My brother got you released from the hospital because he thought you were my wife.” He goes on to tell me a fantastical story that includes the swat team, drawn guns, reduced criminal charges for his brother, and finally a love match between the two of us. 

Even though I don’t believe him, it’s the only thing that makes any sense because my phone is full of pictures of me with Peeta. Dozens and dozens of them. _I lost my memory and gained a boyfriend. This is crazy._

I set my phone onto the bed and look Peeta straight in the face. _His eyes are so blue._ “You need to go now. I have to figure this out.”

His mouth hardens into a thin line. “I’m not leaving you. I need to get you to a doctor. I should have taken you to the emergency room last night when you got that headache.” 

“Doctor? Why do I need a doctor? My sister is a doctor.” I decide right then to call Prim. She’s the only person in the world who I trust explicitly. I stand up and go into the living room to make my call away from Peeta’s listening ears. 

As I wait for Prim to answer I notice all the changes in this room. It’s far too colorful. _Who needs throw pillows? And where did that painting over the sofa come from?_

Fortunately my sister picks up before it goes to voice mail. “You sound upset,” she says immediately. _She got all that from, Hello Prim, thank goodness you answered_? Prim listens while I tell her what’s happening to me, but she interrupts when I tell her that Peeta called me his fiancée.

“You agreed to marry him?” she squeals. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it. Congratulations.”

“I’m not going to marry him,” I say, just as Peeta walks into the living room. He’s put on jeans, but his chest is still bare.

I’m sure Peeta heard what I said to Prim, but he ignores it. “I’m going to make us some waffles for breakfast and then I’ll take you to the doctor.

“I don’t need a doctor,” I call out. “I’m talking to my sister right now. And I don’t have a waffle iron.”

“Oh, but you do. Invite Prim over for breakfast. I’ll make extra for her.”

“I heard that,” Prim says on the other end of the phone. “Tell Peeta, I’ll be there soon.” Her voice lowers, “I know he seems like a stranger right now, but trust me you have been dating him for a few months and you’re head over heels for him.”

“I can’t believe that,” I mutter. “I’m too busy with my career to look for anyone.”

“You can a least admit he’s hot.”

“Okay, so he’s hot.”

“I heard that,” Peeta shouts from the kitchen. He steps into the dining area and winks at me.

My face burns. _What is it with this guy?_

“See you soon, Prim.” I end the call. I go into my bedroom and lock the door. I need to get dressed, but I want to take a shower first and I don’t want Peeta tapping on the shower door to interrupt me. Once I’ve washed, I go to my closet. I’m half expecting to find his clothing inside it too, instead I’m astounded to see new additions to my wardrobe. _Did I grow too big for my old things? I can’t remember wearing a dress since I was in elementary school. _I find a lone white t-shirt – _where are all the other white ones_ – and a pair of jeans to wear.

It unnerves me that my life is so changed and I can’t remember any of it. As I dress, I hear Prim’s voice on the other side of the door. _Thank goodness she’s here._

“Did you tell Katniss about her job?” my sister asks.

I can’t make out Peeta’s reply.

_My job. If it’s already November then school’s been underway for two months. _Already I feel a knot form in my stomach. I exit my room and go into the dining room.

Prim sits at the table while Peeta serves her waffles with diced apple on top. “I’ll make a plate for you, Katniss,” he says.

“None for me,” I say and sit down next to my sister. “What hasn’t Peeta told me about my job.”

She exchanges a funny look with my supposed boyfriend before speaking. “You’re not teaching this year. You got a job transfer and are working as a administrative assistant in the district’s main office.”

My mouth falls open. “I would never do that. Do you know how hard I worked to earn my credential?”

“But you did,” she insists. “You didn’t feel confident to teach this year.”

Stunned is too mild a word. I’m outraged. _I threw away my career._


	13. Chapter 13

Prim says she’ll take me to the hospital to get checked out. “You’re lucky to have a sister who works there and can jump you to the front of the line. Otherwise you’d sit in the emergency room for hours.” 

When Peeta hints that he’ll go with us, I discourage him. “I’m sure you can find something better to do than sit around the hospital all morning.”

“But I’m your…” he stops speaking as my sister shakes her head at him.

“Don’t Prim,” I say. “I’m not a child.”

My sister’s cheeks grow red. “Sorry. Maybe Peeta could meet up with you later.”

His face drops. “I’ll just clean up first before I go.” He stands up and begins to clear the table.

Prim stands up, too. “Let’s leave now, Katniss.”

I tip my head toward Peeta. “He needs to finish dressing and leave too, so I can lock the door.”

“If he doesn’t have his own key, I could give him …never mind,” Prim says. _Does Peeta have a key to my apartment?_

As the three of us walk through the parking lot I look for my car. _How badly was it damaged in the accident?_ “Where did I park?”

My sister points towards a shiny red vehicle.

“Why is my car that color?”

“They repainted it after they made the repairs and you requested it be red,” Prim explains.

_I must have had temporary insanity in addition to amnesia._ How many more surprises am I going to learn about myself today?

My sister is parked along the curb just behind Peeta’s small pickup truck. He attempts to kiss me goodbye but I take a step back and wave. _Why encourage him?_

He gives me a half smile. “Call me if you have any questions. My number is in your phone.”

“I can’t believe any of this is real,” I tell Prim as we drive to the hospital. “It feels like I’ve woke up into someone else’s life.”

Prim sighs. “It’s your life. A rich life you created when you couldn’t remember your previous one. You were happy, too. Mom and I were just talking about it the other day.”

_My mother?_ “So tell me, are mom and I best friends in my colorful new bizarro world?”

Prim chuckles as she turns into the hospital parking lot. “I wouldn’t say best friends, but you talk on the phone often and you invited both of us to dinner at your apartment to meet Peeta. You made us chicken enchiladas with mole. ”

_I cook now?_ “Does she like Peeta?” _I’m curious. Other than Gale, I’ve never introduced her to anyone I’ve been involved with. _

“She didn’t at first. She was convinced you had Stockholm syndrome. When we picked you up at the police station, you were telling us how you were in love with Peeta and you’d known him for less than a day.”

_I hate to give my mother credit, but maybe she is right._ Maybe that’s the reason I made so many changes to my life and got engaged so quickly.

At the hospital, my vitals are checked, my brain is scanned, and my blood drawn. I’m told I’ll get a call in a couple of days from a neurologist regarding the results. I come out of the doctor’s office to find Prim and my mother in the waiting room.

“I’m on my break,” my mother says. “How are you feeling?”

I scowl. “What do you think? I threw away my job, got engaged, and gained ten pounds.”

Her eyes grow round when I mention my engagement, but she lasers in on the later part. “You needed to gain a little weight. You were all skin and bones before.”

_I do not want to be having this discussion. Right now my weight is the least of my problems. _

“You should call your therapist,” she suggests.

_I have a therapist and my mother knows about it? _My eyes fly to Prim as I silently plead with her. _This can’t be happening. _

“Dr. Mark Aurelius,” Prim says. “His number should be in your phone.”

“Can you take me home?” I ask my sister. “I need to be by myself to process everything.”

My mother and Prim exchange a knowing glance and it reminds me of Prim’s exchange with Peeta earlier. At this point, I’m too exhausted to call either of them on it. I just want to go to my apartment and rest.

I convince my sister that I’m going to take a nap so that she’ll leave me alone. Once she goes, I begin a search of my apartment to see what additional changes Ms. Colorful, as I’ve mentally christened the woman who was in charge of my head for the past four and a half months, made. After taking note of everything she’s purchased, I rush to my computer to check my online bank account.

But before I can look at the debits, my eyes fall upon the amount of my recent paycheck. It’s at least thirty percent lower than my teacher’s salary. _Just great._

My mood sours as I look through all the online purchases Ms. Colorful made. _What a waste of money for all these frivolous additions to my apartment._ _I didn’t need any of this stuff._ _It was completely functional the way it was before._ I half dread to find out what she paid for the large painting over the sofa, but it doesn’t even show up on the bank statement yet.

Feeling like my head is going to explode, I go in search of my journal. I need to write my thoughts down so I can figure out what I should do next. Writing is my form of therapy, not listening to the wise droning of some shrink.

I go to my usual hiding place at the bottom of my hamper, but it’s nowhere to be found. _Oh crap._ Panic comes over me. I wrote a lot of personal things in that notebook. Things I’d be embarrassed for Prim or my mother to read. Have they read it? Has Peeta? Even though I don’t care a whit about him, the idea that he knows that much about me is upsetting.

_He’s already seen you naked_ a tiny voice reminds me. 

I comb the apartment from top to bottom until I find it in the center drawer of my desk. I grab a pen and flip the book open to write in it. But as I thumb through to find my last entry, I realize Ms. Colorful kept the journal up. _Now I can make some sense of the irrational changes she made to my life these past months._

Thinking to read _her_ thoughts before I write my own, I carry the journal to the couch and stretch out, resting my head on its usual spot on the armrest. _Hmm, maybe those throw pillows will come in handy._ I put two of them under my head. _That’s nice._ There’s a new throw on then end of the couch that I pull over me. _So cozy._ I open the book and begin to read where _I _left off and _she _took over.

Afterwards, I am in tears. I want to hate her but I feel genuine sympathy for her. Given the scenario she faced, she did her best to make things right. I know that _fixer_ trait well. But something nags at me too, a recognition in her of the person I used to be – the girl whose childhood ended abruptly when my father died. Overnight I gave up childish ways and became responsible and imminently practical.

I became a teacher because I wanted to fix the world, which was ironic since my inner world was a complete mess. I’d never been in a real relationship and had settled for the occasional fling because I didn’t think anyone would want me. Instead I had an unhealthy attraction to my friend Gale who I knew was all wrong for me but had put up with my moods and been a confidant during my difficult teen years.

_Ms. Colorful is the person I would have grown up to be if Dad hadn’t died. Happy._ _Well-adjusted._ _A handsome, thoughtful fiancé._ I quickly put the thought of Peeta out of mind because I have no idea what to do about him. _If he gets to know the real me he’ll leave and the last thing I need right now is a broken heart._

I sigh. _I probably need to see that counselor for at least one session. I have to make sense of all this. _

I turn on my phone and skip past all the texts Peeta has sent me. I locate Dr. Aurelius’ number in my contacts and leave a message. “My memory has returned, but I can’t remember what happened over the last four and a half months. I’d like to meet with you as soon as possible.”

Minutes later my phone rings. “As it happens, I was just going to my office to take care of some paperwork,” the doctor says. “I could meet you there in an hour.”

_Good. The sooner my life can go back to normal, the better. _“Can you give me your address?” 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

“So, tell me what’s going on with you?” Dr. Aurelius asks. 

I sit on an upholstered couch and take in the surrounding. I have no memory of ever going to therapy – I expected to walk in and lie down, instead I sit upright – but I’m pleasantly surprised to see how civilized it is. Maybe this will work since the doctor is a detached observer unlike my family or fiancé.

“I woke up this morning and discovered that I destroyed my life over the last few months.” For the first time I take responsibility for what happened instead of blaming it all on Ms. Colorful. She is a part of me.

He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. “That’s a rather extreme way of putting it.”

“Well, it’s true.”

His eyes fly open and he stares at me. “You want to return to your old life then? The one you wrote about in your journal?”

“How do you know about my journal?”

“You showed it to me. You were quite distressed about it. You believed you were deeply depressed.”

My mouth falls open. My first thought is that I was a fool to show him my private journal, but a deeper truth hits me like a punch. _I was deeply depressed._ _I should have sought help._ We sit in silence for a few minutes.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says. Do you want to return to your old life?”

“I want my teaching job back,” I mutter.

“I’m not the H.R. representative at your school district,” he points out. “If you want to go back to classroom teaching, talk with that person. It doesn’t seem like that difficult a problem.”

“I’ve gotten myself engaged.”

He leans forward in his chair. “Interesting. I cautioned you from moving too fast in that area, but you were fairly adamant that he was the one for you.”

“I don’t even know Peeta.” 

“So spend some time with him. Who knows he may grow on you. There must have been something about him that attracted you.”

“I spent a lot of money redecorating my apartment and revamping my wardrobe.”

“The doctor snorts. “These are all easy enough fixes. How about instead of whining about the changes in your life, you examine them. After all, they weren’t done _to you_. You made them, so at some deep level they made perfect sense to you.”

My phone pings as I walk to my car. Another text from Peeta. He asks if he can come over to talk. I sit in my car and read through all his messages. He seems like a nice guy but he doesn’t know the real me. And with everything I have to deal with now, the last thing I need is to start a relationship. I’ll have to break up with him. It’s the right thing to do.


	14. Chapter 14

This day has left me mentally exhausted. I want to go home, eat something, and write in my journal. _I was so busy reading that I never got a chance to write today._ Besides, I begin a _new-to-me_ office job tomorrow and I need a good night’s sleep.

I send Peeta a text. _Not tonight._ _After a visit to the emergency room and a session with Dr. Aurelius, I’m wiped._

He responds immediately. _I’m glad you’re getting checked out. I’m worried about you. How about dinner tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at five._

_See you then, _I reply. I turn off my phone and drive home. 

As soon as I go into my kitchen to look for something to eat, I’m faced with the remains of breakfast. _Maybe I should have let Peeta stay and clean up._ I rinse the dirty plates and load the dishwasher. The waffle iron takes longer to clean. Afterward, I open the fridge. Two waffles sit on a covered plate. _That must have been the breakfast Peeta made for me._ _Will I get a stomachache if I eat them?_

_He said I’ve been eating gluten for months without any side effects._ _Maybe I should give them a try. _I heat them in the microwave; add a dab of butter and a dollop of syrup. I carry my plate to the table and take a bite.

Even though they are re-heated, the waffles are delicious. _I wonder if they’re hard to make. I should probably get the recipe from Peeta before I break up with him._

As I finish eating, a knock sounds on the door. _It better not be Peeta. Or my mother. _Reluctantly I get up to answer it.

Gale and Madge stand on the other side. _Why are they here?_

“Prim called us and said your memory was back but you can’t remember the last few months,” Madge says.

Gale puts his arm around his wife and nods.

“I was just about to turn in.” I fake a yawn. Maybe they’ll get the hint and leave. But they push past me and come inside.

“Is that the artwork Peeta painted for you?” Madge asks as she studies the canvas over the sofa. “You were talking about it last night.”

_Peeta painted it? That must be why I couldn’t find a bill. _“I don’t know.”

“He’s so talented,” Madge gushes.

I turn to Gale to gauge his reaction. Gale is levelheaded like me. He’d see a phony coming from a mile away. “Why isn’t Peeta here with you now?” he asks. “Prim told us you got engaged last night.”

_I’m going to kill my sister. _“I told him to stay away. I need to be alone to work this all out.” 

Gale shakes his head at me in disbelief. I feel like punching my old friend. _Why have I never noticed how bossy he is? What does he know about losing your memory and waking up into a whole new life?_

“Big mistake, Catnip,” he says. “Peeta knows more about your last few months than anyone else does. You’ve spent all your time with him. He’s probably feeling awful right now.”

_He’s siding with Peeta? Gale’s supposed to be my friend. _A memory from this morning comes to mind, Peeta mentioning that we spent yesterday with Gale and Madge. _Why did I allow Peeta worm his way into my entire life?_

Thankfully they soon leave and I’m left alone to write a long, frustrated diatribe in my journal. But I feel relieved when I’m finished, and my stomach is unexpectedly calm. I carry the book into my bedroom to look through again before I fall asleep. I can’t find my usual flannel pajamas and I’m not going to wear the _Mellark Bakery _shirt, so I lie naked between the softest sheets I’ve ever lain on – _guess there is something to be said for a high thread count_ – while I read. I doze off with the journal lying open beside me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, I go to the HR department at my district to announce that my memory has returned. The manager looks at me like I’m crazy. “I can get medical proof,” I say thinking Dr. Aurelius can vouch for me.

“You can apply for any open teaching positions you like. But you can’t get your old classroom back. That job has been filled.”

I expected as much, but thought I’d give it a try. I promise myself to begin applying for open positions right away. I then study the map in the lobby to locate the office of Professional Learning. Apparently that’s where I work.

Perhaps it’s better that my boss is sick. It gives me a chance to go through my computer, look over my emails and figure out exactly what my job entails. I quickly realize I’m a glorified secretary. Fortunately, I was very organized and kept careful notes so I’m able to piece together my work assignments. Around noon, a thin, dark-haired woman comes over to my desk. “Are you ready to go to lunch now, Katniss?”

I startle. _I have a lunch friend?_

“Sure,” I say wondering what her name is, and how can I discretely find out. Fortunately someone walks past my desk and calls out to her.

_Cecelia, Cecelia, Cecelia._ I repeat it until it stuck in my brain. I take the lunch I packed that morning in my new flowered lunch box -- _I don’t understand my obsession with bright colors_ – and follow Cecelia to the lunchroom. 

“Did you and Peeta have a nice weekend?” she asks.

“Not exactly,” I mutter, surprised that I told her about him. I’ve rarely shared any of my personal life with co-workers. _Of course I didn’t have much of one to talk about._ The lounge is empty as we sit down. I decide to risk it. “Cecelia, are we good friends?”

She looks confused. “I guess so. We eat lunch together every day.”

“Do we do things outside of work?”

Cecelia snorts. “I’m a single mom, remember. I don’t get out much.” 

“Did I ever tell you about my memory loss?”

Her forehead wrinkles. “Yes.” Her voice is hesitant. “Is something wrong again?”

“When I woke up on Saturday morning, I couldn’t remember this job, or Peeta, or any of the last few months even.”

A look of concern comes over her. “Oh, no.” She reaches her hand out and rests it lightly on my arm. “I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”

I unwrap my sandwich. “I don’t know. I’m a teacher trapped in a secretarial job. And I’ve got a boyfriend that I know nothing about.”

“I guess you’ll have to take it one day at a time,” she says, taking a spoonful of yogurt. 

It’s a cliché saying, but she’s right. At this point I have no other option. I go back to my desk feeling slightly relieved. At least I have an ally at this job.

Work ends at four. I go home to prepare for my last supper with Peeta as I plan to break up with him tonight. I put on one of the new dresses in my closet– _who knew orange looked so good against my olive skin tone_? I reapply my makeup at my new vanity. _Might as well get some use out of it since it cost so much._

Peeta arrives promptly at five wearing slacks, a dress shirt and sports jacket. Seeing that he took the time to dress up leaves me with mixed feelings, pleased that he dressed so nicely to go dinner with me and guilt about what I’m going to tell him.

Over idle chitchat about our respective days, he drives me to a family restaurant – the kind of place I’d normally avoid like the plague. “We had our first date here,” he says as he holds the door open for me.

My mouth falls open. “Did I like it?” I blurt out.

“We had a good time,” Peeta says.

_Okaaay. _As we study the menu, Peeta points out my previous meal selection to me – a big, juicy steak. _That sounds like something I’d select._As we wait for our food to arrive at the table, I ask Peeta what we talked about on our first date.

“Mostly about the circumstances that brought us together. Losing our memories gave us something in common.”

_That makes sense. We did, rather do, have that in common._

“I also reminded you that we were in school together,” Peeta says.

My eyes narrow. “I remember school, Peeta. We were never in school together.”

He smiles. “But we were. We were in kindergarten for a couple of months. You wore a red plaid dress and you sang to the class on the first day of school. I would have brought the class photo to show you, but I dropped it off to get it framed and I haven’t gotten it back yet.”

My hand flies to my mouth in shock. _He’s right. I remember singing to the class. I remember the attention I got – all eyes starring back at me. I liked it. A lot._

“I fell in love with you that day,” he declares.

_Ugh. This is awkward. _“Yes, but…” my voice trails off. I’m grateful to the server who arrives with our meal.

I study Peeta as he eats. Other than feeling a healthy dose of lust towards him – _what woman wouldn’t_ \-- I feel no real connection, even if we are former schoolmates. The doctor’s words echo in my mind, _Maybe he’ll grow on you_. But I quickly respond with _he’ll dump me soon enough because I’m not the woman he fell in love with._

For a cheesy family restaurant I’m impressed that they turn out an excellent steak. “What happened next?” I ask when we are nearly done eating.

“Well last time, I drove you home and then we talked on the phone for a couple of hours.”

“Not in person?”

“No, by phone.” 

This is definitely where amnesia me and real me differ. I was never one to take things slow. If I see something sweet I grab it quick. _I have to because I don’t expect it to last for very long. _“Did you kiss me good night?”

Peeta smiles. “I did.”

_I hope he kisses me tonight, too._ _No_, I tell myself sternly. _This is all wrong. You came here to break up with him._ “There can’t be any phone calls tonight. I’ve got other plans.” 

He frowns. “I understand. This is all too much for you.”

“It is.” I’m relieved he comprehends my feelings. _He deserves better than a woman whose life is so screwed up. _

“Look Peeta, I appreciate you trying to recreate our first date, but I think we should call it quits. I don’t feel the same about you as you obviously feel about me. You deserve someone who does.”

Tears come to his eyes and I have to look away. _I’ve made a grown man cry. Was I that harsh?_

“If that’s the way you feel,” he says. He pays the check and we leave. He drives me back to my apartment in silence and walks me to the door.

I turn to face him one last time. “I’m sorry.”

He tries to keep his face neutral, but I suspect he’s heartbroken.

“Would it be all right if I kiss you goodbye, at least?” he asks. “You were my girlfriend for several months and my fiancée for about eight hours.”

_If it will make him feel any better._ “Okay.”

He leans in toward me putting his arms not on my shoulders but onto the door behind me, effectively pinning me into place.

I watch as his tongue swipes across his lower lip wetting it slightly before my eyes close awaiting his soft lips on my own. Instead of a gentle peck though, he nibbles at my lower lip for a short moment before pushing my lips apart to deepen the kiss.

It goes on and on, lasting for a long time, until he breaks apart from me. My legs are like jello as I lean back into the door to support my weight, certain that I will fall down. I lift my arms to Peeta to pull him close again, but he’s already stepped away from me.

“Goodbye, Katniss.”

_Noooo_. _You’re not playing fair._ I’m left in front of my door hot and bothered and ready to scream.


	15. Chapter 15

I watch as Peeta walks down the stairs and out of my life forever; then I unlock the door and collapse onto my sofa. I run my fingers over my already swollen lower lip and my eyes fall upon the cheerful artwork he painted.

An overwhelming sense of melancholy settles over me. I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us by cutting Peeta free, but why do I feel so bad? Deep down I know the answer. It’s the reason I’ve never had a real relationship – the thought of losing someone I care for leaves me paralyzed. My father’s death and its aftermath left its mark. I can’t let that happen to me again so I never give any guy a chance.

Dr. Aurelius asked me if I wanted to return to my old life. I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure. _I’m tired of feeling bad about myself._ Out of nowhere a strangely familiar voice echoes through my mind. _You’ve been given a gift. You don’t have to stay in a depressed rut. You can build your life anew_. 

Is it possible? I don’t know. I find myself jealous of Ms. Colorful who ran my life for the last few months. She didn’t have to deal with these ugly feelings, and was free to take chances and live abundantly. _I want to believe change can happen._

Acting on that hope, I reach for my phone. With each subsequent ring my pounding heart sinks. _Why doesn’t Peeta pick up?_ Just when I think I’ll have to leave a message and I have no idea what to say to the man I just broke up with, he answers.

“What did we do on our second date?” I blurt out.

He gives a low, throaty chuckle. “Is your question based on mere curiosity or are you interested in finding out?”

My voice drops to an embarrassed whisper. “I’m interested.”

“If you’re serious, meet me at Mellark’s State Street shop on Friday at 4:45 p.m.” He ends the call before I even have a chance to say “okay.”

I spend the rest of the week living my new life – driving my red car, going to my office job, even attempting to make waffles for dinner one night. It’s a weird sensation, like wearing someone else’s clothing – _something else I’m also doing_. I feel like an imposter. _Who am I really?_

My sister, mother, and Gale and Madge call periodically to check up on me, but Peeta doesn’t call. Every evening, I study my journal to read up on him. Initially I’d been so upset about my job that I’d skimmed over a lot of what I’d written about him mainly because the prose was so effusive. Also I couldn’t break the code of homemade emoticons -- stars, hearts, and happy faces -- I used after almost every sentence. But our second date was a baking lesson. We made cheese buns. 

Gold lettering greets me as I open the door of the bakery at 4:45 p.m. sharp on Friday. The woman at the counter gives me a friendly “hello” and tells me to go into the kitchen.

Peeta is dressed in white and wears a dark hairnet. He’s engrossed in his work of kneading dough at a large counter.

“I like your fancy hairnet,” I tease, then immediately second guess my comment. _Too sarcastic?_

But Peeta lifts his head and grins. “It’s good you like it because you’ll have to wear one too if you want to help.” He leaves the counter and walks over to a desk at the back of the room. Opening the drawer he pulls out another hairnet. Then he grabs an apron off the wall and brings it all to me.

“So we didn’t roll around naked on the counter on this date?” _Stop with the jokes, Katniss._ But I can’t help myself. I’m nervous.

Peeta winks at me. “Well, we’re only getting started.”

_He has a good sense of humor._ I pull the stretchy net over my head, tucking my braid up inside it, and then tie the oversized apron around my waist. “What are we making today?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

“Cheese buns.” 

I stand alongside him at the counter savoring his nearness.

“I’m off to the bank to make the deposit,” a voice calls out. The unexpected interruption startles me, causing me to sway slightly and accidentally bump into Peeta’s side. _He’s solid._ The counter woman stands in the kitchen doorway. She has her purse over her arm and a zippered bag in her hand. “I’ll lock up for now; be sure to set the alarm when you leave.”

As soon as she’s gone, he asks, “How have you been doing? Do you remember anything?”

“No, I’m still trying to figure stuff out,” I say. “I was hoping you could help me.”

“I’d like to.” I can see the warmth in his eyes. I’m grateful he isn’t grilling me about why I’ve changed my mind about him.

I wash my hands and we get straight to work. He goes to the refrigerator and hands me a block of cheddar cheese and a knife. He instructs me to chop it up into small cubes. When I have a pile of cubes before me, he passes over a hunk of dough.

“Form them into two inch balls, with two cheese cubes inside each one.”

It seems simple enough, but the dough is sticky and my fingers fumble. “Let me help you.” he says. He steps behind me and puts his hands over mine to show me the proper motion. For a short moment I am pressed into the counter with Peeta’s hands on mine. I close my eyes as I relish the feel of his body. Inhaling deeply, I smell his scent – cinnamon and dill. I wish I could remember this fiancé of mine, but I can’t. The moment ends too quickly, and Peeta moves beside me again.

Eventually we have a tray full of cheese buns. Peeta puts them into the oven. “I’ll make some tea while they bake,” he says. “Chamomile?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He goes into a small office off the kitchen and returns a couple of minutes later with two steaming mugs. Setting them on the island, he drags over stools for us to sit on.

Peeta wraps his broad hands around his mug, takes a sip, and swallows. “I’m glad you decided to meet me. I wasn’t sure if you’d show up.”

My eyes drop from his face to the tea in my mug. I tap the side of my cup and watch the liquid swirl. _I hate talking about my feelings._ _But I owe him an explanation._ I take a deep breath and look up at him. “I kept a journal before I bumped my head and thankfully I continued it over the past few months. I’ve been reading through it and it seems to me that I was extraordinarily happy lately. I want to be happy. But I don’t know how. And I think my happiness was tied to you.”

The timer on the oven buzzes loudly interrupting my heartfelt confession. Peeta gets up to shut it off and pull out the tray. He sets two plates onto the counter, in front of us. Using a spatula, he drops two buns on each of our plates.

“That’s one too many for me,” I say.

“You always eat two minimum. Sometimes more.” 

I sigh. “That must be why I gained weight.”

Peeta shakes his head. “You’re gorgeous exactly as you are. You know it’s okay to enjoy yourself.”

“I’m not sure I know how.” I try to pick up a cheese bun but it’s still too hot. Instead I greedily tear off a piece and shove it into my mouth. The warm cheese burns my palate. Unbidden, tears come to my eyes. “I don’t know why you’re still interested in me. I’m broken.”

Peeta looks indignant. “Don’t say that. Your life might be a puzzle to you right now. But with time and patience, you’ll put it all together. I’ll help you all I can. And for now I’ll hold our memories for the both of us.”

I imagine Peeta holding a giant crystal bowl in his steady hands containing everything precious we once shared. It’s a comforting thought. _No wonder I was happy. Who wouldn’t be with a cheerleader like Peeta on my side._

“What else happened on this date?” I tilt my head coyly in a flirtatious manner, until I remember I’m still wearing the hairnet. _Good move, Katniss._

“I boxed up the leftover cheese buns, and you helped me clean up.“ 

We make quick work of putting the kitchen in order. Peeta sets the building alarm, before we step outside in back and he locks the door. He walks me around the corner to my car that is parked in front.

“Now what?” I ask.

His forehead wrinkles. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Our _next_ date,” I clarify. “Because it seems like you might be trying to recreate something here. Maybe to jog my memory...”

He gives me a sheepish grin. “Maybe I am. It worked for my parents. They had filed for divorce when their counselor suggested they re-enact their first few dates. It helped them remember why they fell in love. Now they’re planning a second honeymoon.

So you’re up to do-over our third date, Katniss?”

“Yeah, I am.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Next up for _News At Noon_ is the story of one couple and the incredible lengths they had to go through to find love.” Cressida speaks directly into the camera. The light above it switches off. She turns her head toward where we stand off set. “We have a two-minute commercial break. Take your seats now.”

Peeta wears a dark suit and tie. I wear a knee-length, yellow empire-style dress with low heels. He reaches for my hand as we carefully navigate our way around numerous bundles of electrical cords attached to the cameras and bright lights that fill the television stage. We sit down on a small loveseat. Peeta’s arm goes round my shoulder and I lean into him. _I’ll never tire of this._

Cressida sits across from us in an upholstered chair. An audience faces the stage, but during the commercial break a juggler entertains them.

“Congrats on your promotion to news anchor,” I greet Cressida.

“Thanks. It beats stalking sources for a story,” she says, as she helps Peeta and I attach a small microphone to our clothing. “I can’t believe it’s been a year since you hit the headlines. Do you remember when I first met you outside your apartment?”

“No.” I’ve watched my live _News At Noon_ interview with Cressida online, and I’ve re-read my personal journal so many times that it sometimes seems as if my memory of those lost months has returned, but it hasn’t. Not yet at least. 

“Well, you were gaga for this guy here,” Cressida nods towards Peeta. “Wanted to know all about him. I guess nothing’s changed in that area.”

“You’re right there,” I murmur.

Peeta pulls me closer, and kisses the side of my head, running a hand lightly along the bottom of my hair, which hangs down over my shoulders today. “It hasn’t been smooth sailing,” he says. “There were a few bumps along the road.’

Cressida leans forward in her chair. “A bump on the head causes a few bumps on the road. You have a way with words, Peeta.”

The director starts to count down, “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…” When he hits zero the juggler has disappeared, and Cressida looks into the camera. “A year ago this week all of Dandelion was on the lookout for the woman sitting across from me, Katniss Everdeen, who was supposedly abducted from Dandelion General Hospital. The situation was considered especially dire because she was suffering from amnesia. Fortunately she was found safe and unharmed less than a day later, and with a fantastical story to tell. Due to a confusing mix up, she and her adductor both believed she was married to Peeta Mellark, the man sitting beside her right now.”

“So tell our viewers what happened next, Katniss?” Cressida turns away from the camera to look directly at us as the light on a second camera that’s pointed at the sofa switches on. 

“I think Peeta could more accurately describe the events that ensued.” I smile at my sweetheart. _At least his memory of them is firsthand._

“Initially we both had amnesia, but my memory quickly returned. Katniss’ didn’t and after a month she tracked me down to talk about it. We ended up dating. It quickly grew serious.”

“You don’t say,” Cressida breaks in.

“We were madly in love and even got engaged,” Peeta continues, “but last November Katniss woke up with her memories before the accident intact, and her memories after the accident gone.”

Cressida’s mouth falls open. “She didn’t remember you?”

“I didn’t know Peeta at all,” I jump in. “And I wanted my old life back. You see I’d made a lot of changes while I had amnesia, including leaving my job.”

“What did you do?” 

I sigh. “It was a difficult time for the both of us. I tried to break off with Peeta thinking that it was for the best, but that lasted all of,” I catch his eyes looking for confirmation, “less than an hour?”

“The worst hour of my life,” he says, squeezing my hand for reassurance.

_Thank goodness we’re long past all that._

“I understand you were under the care of Dr. Mark Aurelius during this time,” Cressida says. She looks out to the audience where Dr. Aurelius sits in the front row. A third camera is aimed at him. “Is this type of situation very common for amnesia victims -- regaining your memory but losing everything that’s happened in the meantime?” 

A young man holds a microphone toward my counselor. “It’s very rare, Cressida. I think Katniss has done a masterful job of dealing with a scenario that would have destroyed most people.”

Cressida nods and looks back at me. “So how did you two get back together if you didn’t even know your own fiancé?” Cressida asks.

“Peeta had the idea to recreate all of our dates – a kind of do-over. We baked bread together, went on picnics, saw movies, tried out recipes, and went on hikes.”

“What a great idea,” Cressida gushes. “So you fell in love all over again?”

“Eventually,” Peeta says. “Although Katniss made me work a little harder the second time around.”

I playfully punch Peeta’s shoulder. “I did not.” I turn to Cressida. “Peeta helped me figure things out. He never gave up on me even when I was acting a bit crazy.”

Peeta chuckles. 

Cressida asks, “Crazy? Like what?”

“I’d redecorated my apartment and revamped my wardrobe while I had amnesia,” I say. “When my memory returned, I wasn’t crazy about everything I’d done, but Peeta convinced me to live with it for a while. He was right; I’ve grown to love most of the changes. Although I did get rid of a few clothing items. I’m not a woman who wears a lot of dresses.”

Cressida eyes my outfit.

_Oh crap, I shouldn’t have said that._ _I didn’t want to draw attention to it. _I keep talking to throw her off. “Also, I’d resigned from my position as a second grade teacher and was working as an administrative assistant. Peeta was very supportive in helping me look for a new job. As it turns out, I left the classroom entirely. Now I work as a corporate trainer in the business world.” _For a heck of a lot more money, too, and no parents to deal with._

“What a astonishing story,” Cressida says. “So what does the future hold for you two now that you’re together for real?”

I inhale deeply and my eyes fly to Peeta. We knew she would probably ask this question, but neither of us want to share any more of our personal lives than we have to with the public.

Peeta clears his throat. “Well Cressida, we hope…” Before he can finish, the director makes a cutting motion with his hand, and the light on the camera turns off. The juggler steps out of the shadows and tosses a ball into the air.

Cressida frowns. “Sorry, I’ve still haven’t got my timing down yet. Thanks so much for doing this interview. It was fun. Would you like to stay and join the crew for lunch? We bring in pizza on Friday afternoons.”

Peeta and I decline her offer as we’re in a hurry to go. As soon as we get into the car, Peeta pulls my pearl ring from his jacket pocket. I slide it onto the ring finger of my left hand. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” he says.

“No, you made it easy, fun even,” I smile at him.

Peeta drives to the courthouse. My mother, Prim, Henry, Greta, Rye, Delly, Fern, Phyl, Madge and Gale meet us just inside the door. Everyone’s dressed up for the occasion. My sister hands me a small bouquet, and Rye gives Peeta a carnation to pin to his jacket.

“I wish you would’ve planned a bigger ceremony,” Greta complains.

“This is exactly what we wanted,” Peeta says. “Short and sweet.” 

“Well can you shorten things up any quicker?” Rye asks. “Being in this building gives me the willies. I was here last week to turn in proof that I’d done all of my community service and if I wasn’t your best man, Peet, I’d never come inside here again.”

The woman at the information desk directs us to the room where weddings are being performed. Our ceremony lasts a total of six minutes and then I’m Mrs. Katniss Mellark and sporting a second ring on my finger, a gold band that fits snuggly against my pearl engagement ring.

Afterwards, we all walk down the street and have lunch at an Italian restaurant. Peeta made a cake for dessert. We feed each other a piece as cell phones are pulled out to commemorate the occasion. Then there are lots of good-bye kisses. Greta whispers in my ear, “I’m hoping for a girl.” Startled I smile nervously at her, my heart racing. _Did Peeta say something to his mother?_

It isn’t long until we’re driving toward the Mellark’s cabin in the woods for our weekend honeymoon– exactly the same scenario that occurred only a year earlier -- only this time we really are married.

“Did you say something to your mother about, you know?” I rub my mid-section.

“Good grief, no. Why would you think that?”

“She told me she hoped I had a girl.” _She must have guessed exactly why we wanted to get married so suddenly._

Peeta sighs. “You know she’s been on a grandma kick ever since she and Dad retired. She’s probably just messing with you.”

“Maybe, except that we _will_ be giving her a grandchild in six months. And what if it’s a girl?” _I have a horrible feeling that Greta would want to be very involved._ _She’s got a lot of free time now._

“I wouldn’t worry about it Katniss. She’s going to have her hands full with Mellark babies. Rye blabbed the news in the men’s room after lunch. Delly and Fern are expecting, too. They didn’t tell us because they didn’t want to take away from our big day.”

I chuckle. My brother-in-law’s big mouth never ceases to surprise me. “It’s weird to think that only a year ago your parents were planning to divorce and now they’re solidly together and expecting a grandbaby bonanza.”

Peeta flashes me those beautiful dimples, which I hope our child inherits. “The world is full of wonderful surprises like that. Who would have guessed that a bump on the head would result in a bump in the night and now a bump on the way.”

I snicker at my witty husband. But there’s a lot of truth in what he’s said. I spent too much of my life fretting about everything that was wrong. I never would have imagined that a bump on the head would show me what was right.

**THE END**

_Author’s Note: Thank you dear readers for all your comments and love for this story. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. A special thanks to **567**_ _ who was the inspiration of Peeta’s closing line. It was included in a review for chapter one (left on Archives of Our Own). I told you I might steal it my friend – and I did!_


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